obituary.

i hold my son’s hand
as we shelter in the museum
because summer is here
and i sympathize
with the mummies,
with their need for
unrelenting chill.

“that dinosaur has
three horns,” he says,
and he chews on his lip
then:
“but we don’t know
if he was purple or blue
or maybe rainbow?” 

yes, maybe rainbow.

it is a wonder to me
that he can already
see

blackened bones
may sketch
the shape of a thing,
there are still
gaps and shadows
where the heart
must have been.

Elisheva Fox is a mother, lawyer, and writer. She braids her late-blooming queerness, Texan sensibilities, and faith into poetry. Some of her other pieces can be found in Sand Hills Literary Magazine, Sheila-Na-Gig, Festival Review, 805lit, Screen Door Review, and Jewish Council’s
forthcoming issue of Paper Brigade.