“Between Funerals” by Felicia Krol

Felicia Krol


A black-suited man
plucks your name
from the felt board
in the foyer.

One by one
the white letters
into a plastic bag,

the kind built for sandwiches.

from Rattle #52, Summer 2016


Felicia Krol: “I write because my brainthoughts are made of words and they need somewhere to live when I’m not thinking them anymore.”

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