Broken crimson
Mercedes sedan.
Cotton-wood, milk-weed.
The taste of cold metal
and the repetition of three AM
sirening ambulance rides.
Yellow cream, three-tiered
birthday cake.
Cherry lip balm.
Pale blue satin shorts
and matching jacket
with my name embroidered
in hot pink, Cindy.
Poochie, my childhood
beagle, whimpering inside
the locked rooms
of night. A field of black and white
dappled ponies. Blinding,
the silence.
An orange plastic
lighter, and red
gas station
canister
of kerosene.
Copyright © 2022 by Cynthia Cruz. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on December 9, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.