Karen Corinne Herceg Poems

An early April day, arms full of grocery bags,
frost in the air not yet done,
I walked toward the house, stopped,
stunned by the sudden sight,
...

The secrets of a January river
flow by the concrete monuments
intercepting them
passing through obstructions:
...

Miguel Amor,
I see you older now,
a family man,
the lawyer you had said you would become,
...

I smoke through the air
on the curve of your notes
at the purse of your lips
your horn the instrument
...

Mommy takes a long swig of cocktail,
always a chance for blurt,
a revelation somehow
of something we never wanted.
...

It's not the leaving,
it's the getting out,
mommy whispered
through glazed eyes
...

My parents rest in drawers of steel,
within shiny, cushioned boxes
behind walls of stone.
Slid in like bakers' trays,
...