portion of the artwork for Iris Litt's poem

Sequence
Christopher Kuhl

1
I wake in the night
to the smell of baking bread;
warmed, I drift back to sleep

2
a path
I don’t know where it goes,
but I walk to find out

3
zero visibility
ashes so thick we meet
ourselves and do not know

4
I spend days recuperating
from myself, looking forward
to night, a single candle and a dream

5
stone soup: a pebble,
bones, roots, leaves:
a winter night’s supper

6
what do we remember? the ovens
and the souls freed up in smoke,
ashes as light as a single rose petal

7
all grief is ageless; breathe,
breathe while you still can


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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 52 | Fall/Winter 2018