White Lily

by Lisa Fusch Krause


The stars burnt; the sky
fell down in ashes

I stood on the frozen grass,
a box heavy in my arms
Perhaps it held your head,
perhaps it held my heart

It doesn’t matter now

I buried the box
in our backyard
under the stone lion,
next to your dead hamster
and my dead cat

Late that winter, a white lily
bloomed in the snow
I wrapped my sweater
around its fragile stem

I’d lost too much;
I took no further chances