Poetry: When is a grave not a grave

Lake Superior. Photo credit: Sara Swanson.

When is a grave not a grave

by Spenser Swanson

Concave
Hole in the ground
in the wall
in the window pane
cracked with the force of god
empty husk like
the seashells on the shore line
up north where the water always runs cold
It opens like a mouth
and says
“When it feels like home”

Spenser Swanson is a Manchester resident and sophomore in high school.

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by Sara Swanson

Sara Swanson is an editor, writer and founder of the Manchester Mirror.