Mourning at the Kaldi Café
2012 String Poet Prize Honorable Mention
Yesterday at the Kaldi Café
the fruit of my loss was melon—
honeydew, cantaloupe, red water—
ripe bites I cut with a fork
as I told friends your
answer to my question
where are you now?
After lunch I found
old handkerchiefs
the color of melons
that I wear around
my hair today,
your mother’s handkerchiefs
I thought I had lost
pull my thick hair
away from the damp
base of my neck
for whatever air
there is to cool
the heat of my first
summer without you—
today pale greens and tangerines,
thin lines the color of seeds,
soften my severity.
At night when I untie my hair
I braid your name inside each cross—
my plaits rest on each breast
like you used to do.