Shahé Mankerian: Burial

When the shovel fell, the dirt exposed

the white baby shoes. The eroded soil 

failed to bury the stitches on the soles 

and the scratches on the left tongue. 

Father looked away and gazed 

at the curling smoke from his cigarette. 

The shallow grave aggravated the anthill 

near the foot of the mulberry tree. 

The lantern trembled as the wind 

intensified from the belly of Mt. Sannine. 

The last of the dogwood twigs smoldered 

and kept the coffeepot warm. 

Father stomped on the white leather, 

yet the eyelets of the shoestrings stared 

back from the mud like a choking snake.

This poem was published in These Fragile Lilacs Poetry Journal, Volume II, issue II.