Water from the last storm
has finally gone, receded
into earth.
The rings of its visit
show on the side
of the house. You were
that tall once, measured
in string and charcoal
by Papa’s hands. He moved
like water, like rain. Steady,
steady,
then slow until
not at all.
Memories move like that
too. There, then not there,
flowing and filling us.
Krystal A. Smith is a Black lesbian writer of poetry and speculative fiction. Her poems have appeared in Tulips Touching (2011) and recent short stories have appeared in Ladylit Publishing’s Summer Love: Stories of Lesbian Holiday Romance (2015) and Lez Talk: A Collection of Black Lesbian Fiction (2016). Her debut collection Two Moons: Stories was released from BLF Press (2018) and was a 2019 Lambda Literary Award nominee.
