hand me downs

Poetry
Peter D. A. Wood


Photo Credit: Sophia Louise/Flickr (CC-by-nc-nd)

Grandma had dozens of books from her college days
the classics like Poe, Tolstoy, Hardy
no women though and oddly enough
not a single Bible. I pass my fingers over the dry
worn down pages, wondering who else has done so, too.
From the now-ignored shelves I spot a quintessential read—
The Idiot—how appropriate this would make for me
a half-joking birthday gift. There is a short note in
the back etched in now illegible handwriting.
Maybe it’s a confession, to murder or something more
sinister like continuing a lineage. I set the book
down before I read too far between the lines.

pencil

Peter D. A. Wood is an aspiring writer originally from Iowa most recently living in Belo Horizonte, Brazil. Email: peter.david.arnould.wood[at]gmail.com