Where Daddy Went Thereafter
To find me, stay alert. You can never
know how or when I will appear…
In those long hours chained to a cubicle chair, as you
daydream of home. In the streak of evening sun slanting
the path to the metro, or hiding in the eaves of your roof,
nestled inside the thousand-eyes of a queen wasp. Afraid
to be stung, you do not swat her down. To find me, peer past
the split telephone pole, orange hue warming your window.
See me roving a garden jungle succumbed to time sticking
its meddlesome hand in the soil. Later, seek me in shadow,
the wingspan of a peregrine falcon, revealing an ant army
marching past a wrinkled tangerine. And when my death
day breaks in, a thief, don’t cry. I will be huddled beneath
a cloud of incense vanishing to a heaven you won’t believe.
You will meet me at church, the foot of the altar, genuflecting
to a crucified king. Or standing in the stream of salvation history
rushing to the rocks. Now, I am in the high corner of two pews
pinned back to back, bathed in stained glass color. It is Easter &
a rank of organ pipes blow wide open to receive me – a lily white
asterisk crowning a casket.
Sarah Marquez is an MA candidate at Southern New Hampshire University. When I am not writing, I can be found reading, sipping coffee, or tweeting, @Sarahmarissa338.