“chances are where we spread dad’s ashes will burn down” by Hanna Hays
my hands formed
sand into walls,
constructed our
crawdad kingdom
on the laramie.
my brothers plucked
the royal court
from the river,
placed the king
in my hand:
pinprick vengeance
of ten noble legs.
my dad stood
in waist-high waders,
flicked the line,
a magic wand
conjuring rainbows
and browns,
hidden behind
beaver dam clutter
long abandoned
by careful builders.
dad swore he was once
trapped between mama
and baby moose here,
where branch antlers
blended with aspens.
a warning grunt
hovered in air,
boiled the river.
he said he loved us
just like that.
we scattered his ashes
on the laramie, where
seventeen years later
fire blazes
across kingdoms,
ignites dams,
turns aspens
into skeletons,
suffocates moose,
and makes me
lose something
twice.
About Hanna Hays
She/Her/Hers
Hanna Hays is a lover of literature from Alamosa, Colorado. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Western Colorado University and teaches 9th and 10th grade English Language Arts at Center High School.