family (a form somehow must)
Gwynne Garfinkle
the cat vanishes forever
between one episode and the next
so does our beloved dog
(we don’t notice)
the girls once had a different dad
the boys, a different mom
now they’re gone
never to be mentioned
like the braces one of us had
on her teeth for a week
we’ve forgotten those
who might wish to seek
traces of the dead
in our faces, mannerisms
the past is fractured beyond repair
like Mom’s favorite vase
Gwynne Garfinkle lives in Los Angeles. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in such publications as Strange Horizons, Mythic Delirium, Kaleidotrope, The Cascadia Subduction Zone, Postscripts to Darkness, Lackington's, and The Mammoth Book of Dieselpunk. She loves coffee and classic horror movies. For more about her work, visit gwynnegarfinkle.com.
