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too loud
January 3, 2012
i am comforted
by the dawn-yellow tint of my grandmother's walls
that wrap around me like a bathrobe.
inside her kitchen there are paintings of
apples and cowgirls,
and cigarette smoke that binds us together.
she casually tosses a shrieking newspaper on the table
and i look at it, dizzy
as if i just found
a gun buried inside of a sandbox.
"would you like another glass of milk?"
she asks
but all i could hear was the ear-splitting crack
of open fire.
© Katherine A., San Antonio, TX
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