Poetry

December 17, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

AP photo

 

By

Jill Crainshaw

 

 

 

funereal confections

 

 

i think it must have been peppermint

that he gave her

reaching out with

a sleight of hand

and a wisp of a smile

the day he buried his dad

cough drops are fine

butterscotch buttons too but

i think on that day

it was peppermint—

red bird peppermint puffs

to be precise

the kind that crinkles

when a piece escapes

from its cellophane wrapper

into your hand

one is enough

to savor a while

if you can keep from

biting into its sugary softness

crisp coolness tingling

your tongue with

sweet promise

 

 

 

 

 

Jill Crainshaw

Jill Crainshaw is a professor at Wake Forest University School of Divinity and a Presbyterian minister (PCUSA). Her work has appeared in The New Verse News, Star 82 Reveiw, and Panoplyzine. She is frequent contributor to the Patheos blog, Unfundamentalist Christians. She blogs atdrdeacondog.wordpress.com.

Editor review

1 Comment

  1. I.B. Rad December 18, at 01:35

    Nicely written. Change of focus, almost a poetic aside.

    Reply

Leave a Reply