Three Poems

by Hayden Winston

Photographs

when I was young

my mother never could say "I'm sorry,"

she'd saunter into the room

shattering the silence with

"are you hungry?" "would you like some ice cream?"

my father never could say "I love you,"

he'd muster up every ounce of tenderness

deep from his very marrow to utter

"be good," "do you need some money?"

now that the years have rolled by and I've grown gray

all I hear is "I'm sorry, I love you"

pouring out of them both at every turn

a little late, but just like hidden photographs

I lap these memories up, press them to my chest

to keep forever

Garden Party

What is life, but risk and chance?

A spring bonfire in the yard

The all-consuming urge to dance

Round remnants freshly charred

Your thirst for love will grind you thin

If you don’t learn to search within

Last Pleas (of an Atheist) 

Years spent in the wilderness

Still this coffee is too cold

Tarnished by your ignorance

No false witness too bold

Save your prayers, we might need them after all

BIO: Hayden Winston is a multilingual, bisexual, Caribbean writer and activist. He is currently pursuing a doctorate in organizational leadership at UNC Chapel Hill. His work draws on his experiences growing up in Los Angeles as the queer son of West Indian immigrants. His poetry has featured in The Caribbean Writer, In Parentheses, and Terror House Press.