Rose Camden's Candelight Vigil by Bernie Groves
"The streets grow empty and my shift ends. Nothing wears me out like driving the winding streets packed with cars."
The candlelight vigil happens every
He has these dead eyes, red-rimmed
year. Faithfully, for ten years, Rosa
with black half-circles underneath. He
Camden has stood at that same bus
doesn’t accompany her often. When
stop with her flowers clutched in worn
he’s there, he always wears a baggy
gloves. She holds them like she’s
black suit. Looks like he probably
guarding herself from something, like
wears it to all the important morose
they’re a shield from grief. The flowers
occasions, like this one.
will convince the grief to leave her be or pass her by like the Lord when he
She’s alone this year, the final year.
cursed the Egyptians that didn’t mark
Her umbrella shimmers like liquid
their doors.
obsidian. It rains every year on May 1st. The earth wants to share Rosa’s grief,
16
She’s not always alone, though.
tries to get her to cry with it. But her
Sometimes, there’s a man with her. I
face is smooth, unwrinkled as fresh
think he's her husband, except he
parchment. She doesn’t cry, not even
doesn’t have the look of a husband.
that first year on the bus.
|
MASKS
• SPRING
2021
