My Dead Husband’s Identical Twin Sends a Selfie
He is standing beside the mural he painted
of my husband on a train, looking back
at me waving good-bye.
My brother-in-law has wrinkles at the corners of his eyes,
the picture of what my husband would look like
if he’d aged these last seven years.
In the mural his face is smooth. My hair
has no streak of gray. I am reaching out to him,
younger than I will ever be again.
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Ellen Romano is an educator, mother, grandmother, widow, and beekeeper living with her dog, Doc, in Hayward, California. She is the winner of Third Wednesday’s 2023 Poetry Prize. Other work has appeared in Lascaux Review, The Deadlands, December magazine, and other publications
Very moving.