LOST STARS

MiJin Cho

Her fingers curl on the evening’s snare.

Cigarette fumes from her thin blue lips. Down

the street, her family of four lost an alcoholic mother whose beer

her fingers curl on. The evenings snare.

Do the children know their mother recites their stars

each night and chokes herself with grief and wounds?

Her fingers curl on the evening’s snare;

Cigarette smoke fumes from her thin blue lips. Down!