Stirring : A Literary Collection

Peter Douglas


DEATH POEM

      Dedicated to the memory of the poet’s cousin,  
      Suzanne Kondratenko
      (March 3, 1974 - September 11, 2001, World Trade Center)


Anticipating you, seeing you again, a difficult joy.
I am again peeking through the cracked door
at you --
cuddling, giggling against the quiet lapping of the lake,
sprawled, feet against cold feet, beside my sister --
standing where I’ve stopped and can’t scratch my ankle --
the floor might creak and wake our families, or grandma and grandpa,
who needs his long sleep,
like splitting water behind his chestnut speedboat,
Old Glory flapping left and right, bow and stern,
tears breaking across his cheeks in the wind.

78 floors is about 936 feet, isn’t it? "Not counting the mezzanine?"
I wonder if you ever saw that movie?
Paul Newman’s great, strutting around, mumbling "Sure, Sure" all the time.
I watch movies all night now,
late into the morning, ‘til I pass out.

But I still have nightmares.
My sister’s voice breaks air,
sends the huddling frogs sprawling into the lake --
your split bones bristle in the moonlight,
choked up in flannel and blood splat through
your jammies -- bone and flannel and little girl --
still little girl.




Peter Douglas
Date of Birth: 12/12/78
Location: Washington, DC
Email: peter@cassidydouglas.com
Website: http://www.cassidydouglas.com
Publications: The G.W. Review, The Hollins Critic, The Mind’s Eye, Paperplates, Rattapallax, Red Booth Review, Spank Thru, SUndressed & Writer’s Journal., Stirring V3:E3, V3:E5, V3:E6, V3:E11








Stirring : A Literary Collection



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