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Francis Masat

Reception

winter goodbye -
ice crystals inside
a paw print

I sigh in relief—finally home. Almost immediately, the stinging pain of the cold yields to the warmth and aromas of the kitchen. The windows are frosted over from baked potatoes with dry crusty skins, macaroni with a rich cheesy crust, rice pudding with raisins and nutmeg crusted into the top, sour home-canned cherries under a sugar-cinnamon crust.

the coffin
slowly sinks
through the frozen snow

The doorbell rings: our reception begins.

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