Poem :: Erica Goss

Father Fragments
by Erica Goss

Once a week I wipe the dust from the lid,
tilt the little jar of ashes

and watch them settle. Where
is his giant bark of a laugh,

his hand smacking the table
so hard my plate jumped?

Night after night he voiced
all the parts in Huckleberry Finn. . .

[read the rest and more on gravel]