by Keith Hoerner
I stand at the kitchen sink washing the one thing I took from home after you died: The Madonna and Child statue I meditated on—kneeling before you—being beaten, traumatized, loving you, year after year. I wash it gently, remembering the time you unwittingly soaked a statue of St. Joseph carved out of salt in a sink of warm water. You did not realize it would dissolve, desert you like your man-made religion. Only to return later, pushing your hands through the milky-white water, confused, almost frantic, as you thrashed about in search of what you had laid there.
Keith Hoerner (BS, MFA, current PhD candidate) is founding editor of the Webby Award recognized Dribble Drabble Review, an online literary ezine and print anthology series of all things “little-ature.” Featured in many “Best Of” publications, his own writing can be seen in 150+ lit mags / anthologies across five continents.
