Erika Woloschuk's Before is part of our celebration for National Poetry Month.
White frilled stockings,
Expired soups in the pantry,
Powdered donuts in the Church basement.
That car with the crank windows,
The two flights of stairs up to the apartment,
The clothesline swaying in the wind.
Reciting The Our Father,
The Hail Mary,
The praise I received after finally getting it right.
I haven’t visited in some time.
The world has a strange way of keeping people apart.
You don’t remember who I am,
But sometimes I still have to try.
When I look into your eyes,
The dust gathering in the playroom,
The stained glass lamp hanging above the table,
The half finished coloring books left wide open.