Kendra Tanacea
AFTER YOUR DEATH
I roll out a vast expanse of butter dough
cookie-cut a cluster of stars
an empty constellation
while the ones in the oven rise
double in size
our son scissors your silhouette
from black construction paper
the scrap on the table a perfect void
now we have two of you
a comfort a curse
I stand at the top of the stairs where
you wobbled and I caught you
the moon a bright ball in my hands
a manhole into which I fall
your weak sweet heart
I said just go to sleep
and you did
I cut back the roses
there’s my shadow
a keyhole only I can walk through
and all around it
sunlightyou
About the writer:
Kendra Tanacea, attorney, holds a BA in English from Wellesley College and an MFA in writing and literature from Bennington College. Her first collection of poetry, If You’re Lucky Nobody Gets Hurt, was a finalist for the Agnes Lynch Starrett Poetry Prize. A Filament Burns in Blue Degrees, published by Lost Horse Press, was a finalist for the Idaho Prize for Poetry. Kendra’s poems have appeared in Rattle, North American Review and Poet Lore, among others.
Image: Two and Moon by Marta Shmatava (1965-). Oil on canvas. 100 x 80 cm. 2014. By free license.
