RWB Workshop Poem of the Week – July 20

John Barrale

I remember the bittersweet smell
of my mother’s lipstick
melting in its gold cartridge
when we went to Coney Island,

and how the glossy burst of sun was like a poster
when we walked out of the subway station—

and how, riding home, I slept
in her suntan-oiled arms,

and the smell of the sea,
so old and fertile,
rose like a ghost
from the sand-wet bottom of my pail,

and how after she died,
the lonely cigarette and onion sweat
of my father
would wake me
for school in the morning.

Blog – (160 followers)
Facebook – (307 likes)
Twitter – (74 followers)

Author: redwheelbarrowpoets

Red Wheel Barrow poets of Rutherford, NJ, home of Pulitzer-prize winning poet William Carlos Williams.

%d bloggers like this: