Beauty for Ashes Poetry Review

Nancy Henry

We Clean Out Your Refrigerator After the Funeral

What it is, we finally realize, is a lime
gelatinous and blue with fuzz
dripping an acrid-smelling slime
which spreads among
the few wizened bulbs of garlic
scattered in the drawer,
and Roland says "Enrique and his salsa."
And we start to laugh just one instant
before we weep,
seeing your slim sure hands making
swift narrow slices, then
the sharp decisive crosshatch,
that juicy snapping sound
of crisp red pepper.
How is it that in the time it took
this lime you bought to turn to foul glue,
you dissolved away from us,
right off the bone,
just floated out of here like a tired balloon?
Or did your mama buy those vegetables
thinking you might rally for one last floorshaking party?
Chopping at that kicky red counter
hips moving in exaggerated salsa beat
that little shake of the rear
for our entertainment-—
we are laughing
as you pulse
that ginzu knife
the rhythm is gonna get ya
rhythm is gonna get ya.

Nancy Henry lives in Maine in the Western foothills of the White Mountains. She practices law and is pursuing her Masters in Psychology at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. Her work may be found in American Poets and Poetry, Black Spring Review and Oak Hall Perspectives.




Isaiah 61:1-3

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