Wisconsin Spring, 2015
you are sick and tired
worn out and blistered, ready
to feed your heart to the dark one
his warm laughter and soup
remedy for this deep sob—
Tony dead too soon for no reason
the biker caught by the truck’s tire, cross
winds whipping the husks, cold’s
reluctance to unwind—all the buried
bulbs bloated, ripe, listening for
a crack in the earth.
Sara Parrell
I hope everyone reads the article in the latest Isthmus about Tony Robinson’s Mother, Andrea Irwin—–her heartbreaking loss compounded by heartless and inhumane cruelty—
I would like to add my poem Calling Instructions: How to Live in Sirens to the memorial: https://a.disquscdn.com/uploads/mediaembed/images/3041/3924/original.jpg