Winter 2016 (March 4, 2016)

August.

March 9, 2016
By Julie Zhou

grief was
blue and cold
and tired
and quiet
like
Lake Michigan
the night we found
that crab
along the sandy lakefront—
a crab named Persephone,
he said
because she had six pomegranate dots
on her left claw
and because she was always caught
in the half-life
of a world passing sideways;
he thought it was poetic
and I thought it was poetry
and we argued the difference for
hoursanddaysandweeks
until I came back to
Lake Michigan [nights]
and he was gone
and so was Persephone
and all that was left was an echo
and shadows holding hands
as they followed sideways tracks
into the ink-dark water.