#Fiction Friday: #Micropoetry from the Book

Mormoni

Caitlin & I were the daughters
of Mother’s womb,
but Elders Johnson & Roberts,
they were the sons of her heart.

In 100 sheep,
Sister Wiley was the black-hearted stray—
enamored of the divine passion
of the elders,
with whom she’d found her Ones.

Six little elders, there were,
eating pizza & pasta with sauce;
only one little elder stopped,
the rest looking cross.

The elders had changed us,
then they changed,
& a part of me wondered
if that lively summer
of my Mormon soldier
had deadened into winter.

I was given a Patriarchal Blessing from a man I did not know,
even as I was cursed with a father’s parting
from a man I never would.

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