by Jacob Reina
Grief is a neglected wound,
Born in a room with withered roses,
Old cherub paintings hung over vases,
Trophies dusty with sports clippings faded,
Cross-stitched lilacs in rusted frames,
And stick-figured families taken away.
The dog howls to Heaven,
Show mercy for one night.
About the Author
Jacob Reina is a full-time linguistics student at Fresno State, but he is considering a minor in creative writing. He has been writing poems for over fifteen years, but only recently began sending his poems to literary journals. He has not yet been published.