Abigail

I have my share Of troubles. Like we all do. But tonight, darling, I remember you. It was the way You wrinkled your nose When I asked you to dance There beside that Loud-flowing river On that beautiful early-autumn day. We were children, but I think I loved you. “Dance?” you said. And the river carried our laughter away.

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About the Author

David Romanda’s work has appeared in places such as Gargoyle Magazine, The Louisville Review, The Main Street Rag, PANK, and Puerto del Sol. His books are “the broken bird feeder” (Trouble Department) and “Why Does She Always Talk About Her Husband?” (Blue Cedar Press). Romanda lives in Kawasaki City, Japan.