a poem by thomas dooley

Winter Burial


When she died early light
turned the curtains

to gauze. I wilted
spinach for lunch

the hours she spent
zesting lemons

whipping meringue
to peaks. We step

between dunes of ice
she never

liked how snow weighs down
a roof.



Thomas Dooley the artistic director of emotive fruition, a theatre collective where actors collaborate with poets to bring poetry to life on stage. He holds an MFA from New York University, works in creative arts therapy, and is at work on his first book of poems.