Nina Rubinstein Alonso’s poems appeared in The New Yorker, Bagel Bards, U. Mass. Review, Ploughshares, Ibbetson Street, etc. and her book This Body was published by David Godine Press.  Her stories were in Broadkill Review and Southern Women’s Review, was once a pushcart nominee, and she edits Constellations A Journal of Poetry and Fiction: www.constellations-lit.com.

Draped Mirrors

the relatives sit squeezing tissues
looking at the hollow place

where Aunt Rose used to be
now her gold-edged photo

smiles from the piano
and every mirror’s draped

with white towels
I remember her laugh

her hands stirring pots of sauce
wide fingers winking diamonds

now lights are dim
gems gifted to daughters

glasses folded blind in a drawer
and it’s right that mirrors

sleep through haunted hours
wrapped in layers of cloth

so the dead can’t try to step out
or the living find a way to slip in.

— Nina Rubinstein Alonso

*

__________________________________
To have your work considered for the LYRICAL send it to:
dougholder@post.harvard.edu