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Exhuming Joy – by Cindy Adame

Exhuming Joy

by Cindy Adame

By the shallow unmarked grave
of my dearest childhood friend,
I sometimes sit and ponder.
I know the bones lying here
will slowly mold away, and all
my brightest memories, like her
have decayed.

I smell her in the dirt,
draw her straight into my brain
and wait for her to hit—
but there’s no euphoric lift.

And all the silly, whispered secrets
behind grass-stained fingers, into
ears that smelled of ivory soap and only heard
the sound of Hope and Joy, are gone.

I’ve waited for the lame to walk,
the blind to see, the dumb to talk—
I want to see the dead rise again.
Not this sad exhumation
of her badly beaten corpse.

About the author

Cindy Adame
Cindy Adame

Cindy Adame was born in Phoenix Arizona, but has spent most of her adult life in Bakersfield California. Recently retired, she has decided to pursue a lifelong passion to write. Being both a mother and grandmother, she has a rich source for her poetry and children’s books.

Other poems by Cindy Adame on Flashes:

Dad’s Widow

Books by Cindy Adame on Amazon

What would you do with one hundred shoes
Abi see, Abi have, Abi do

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Flashes

Created in 2014, Flashes is a privately owned literary website. We publish short stories, non-fiction, flash fiction and poetry. Our goal is to give talented writers a platform to showcase their creativity, with an emphasis on original voice, innovative style and challenging plots.

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