Pin It

Poem: The Annex 

The Annex

My parents’ house has a large, wood attic, full of closets like caves. There’s a Talmud up there that’s useless. When he hugs me—my father—always as if for the last time (ageless arguments as illegible as any body) I cry as I hold on to Anne’s arm. My grandmother’s name, too.  Her skin is downy, soft, and dark and she smells like dust and like the ocean.

Speaking of...

Pin It


Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

Hudson Valley Events

submit event

Latest in Poetry

Hudson Valley Tweets