A walk around and up, 
the rug pulled out 
to reveal a not-there floor, 
memories that aren’t mine—
a photograph of my parents 
on their wedding day, December 5, 
fifty-six years ago, my mother 
in a navy wool suit and matching 
pill box hat, a black rose pin 
on her lapel that I wear now. 
My father in a dark brown suit, 
his thick eyebrows framing 
his open face. We’re a family 
that does better the second time, 
second marriages, second 
chances when the shine is 
scuffed, when I can meet 
a friend for coffee and discover 
I left the house still wearing 
my slippers and it’s not 
the end of everything.

LeeAnn Pickrell

is a poet living in Richmond, California. Her work previously appeared in KYSO Flash, and most recently in Eclectica, Coffee Poems, and West Marin Review. She is a freelance editor, and managing editor of Jung Journal: Cultural and Psyche.

More on the Web: By, About, and Beyond

Ekphrastic poetry by LeeAnn Pickrell:

⚡ Hand and Wheel, after Georgia O’Keeffe—Hand and Wheel (1933) by Alfred Stieglitz, in KYSO Flash (Issue 8, August 2017)

⚡ Ode to Coffee, after a painting by Richard Diebenkorn, in MacQueen’s Quinterly (Issue 4, July 2020)