upon seeing a blatantly racist remark written by a loved one

a long country dirt road
flanked by brown stalks of withered corn

a fallen trunk on dry creek bed
overgrown with lightly-feathered reed grass

a fleeting beacon halfsunk on a distant horizon
– that red sky from a McCarthy novel –

and the failed search for that past point
where paths turned, and stretched, to the thinnest veil

keith anthony francese

2.20.2015