heritage

to my father

by Luminita Suse


silence cropped the violin
from my father’s chest
and buried it deep into the ground

since then
the unbearable longing
has plucked the disconnected strings
and time has poured mountains
of salt and sand over
his open heart

much greener
the grass from home rustles his song
and catches me by the ankle

Published in Bywords Querterly Journal, 2006


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