CROSSING THE THRESHOLD

I remember my first smoke
A Marlboro offered
In the men’s room of a kitchen
Where workers took their breaks

And I remember my first drink
A stolen sangria
That ended up staining
The carpet of my room

And I remember my first love
A flower barely opened
That appeared at my door
On a cold moonlit night

And I remember the ashes
Of my childhood falling
Along with a bottle
And a faded black skirt


Richard Schnap