Religion Like Orange Sunglasses

by Holly Wiegand

Exhaling poplars and cardamom,

we crossed ourselves on the July-brown

lawn because our grandmothers did.

We took turns dappling our foreheads

with the garden hose, streaking noses,

chests with sunscreen and water.

Tenderly chanting over Goldfish crackers

and Kool-Aid, we dried our backs in sunlight

as the morning paper wilted beside the screen door.

About the Author

Holly Wiegand is an English PhD candidate at Boston University. A Montana native, she enjoys kayaking, skiing, and discovering what it means to be human. Her poetry has previously appeared in DASH Literary Journal, Polaris Literary Magazine, and Peregrine Journal.