Lucille Iscaro is a poet and essayist who lives in White Plains, New York. Her selected poetry was inspired by her late parents. Their loving guidance shaped her, making their loss a different kind of painful inspiration.
Contact Lucille
The Unveiling
Lucille Iscaro
Lucille Iscaro
the funeral home
a prayer book and
a yard of cheesecloth
to cover the stone
I’d rather keep
the flimsy gauze
for chicken soup
I’d strain spent herbs
gray bits of bone
bleached out carrots
to leave a clear
golden broth
Dad would’ve like that
some chicken soup
like his grandmother made
fluffy matzoh balls
slurpy noodles
I’d set it before him
instead
today
I recall, remember
honor
I veil
that cold tablet
repository of grief
with this flimsy blanket
folded it could be a pillow
unfolded unfurled
it catches a breeze
and whispers like a prayer
as I place it
masking his name
sharply lacerated
freshly etched
we come together
hold one another
speak his name
smile, cry
tell stories
read psalms
the little ones
unsure are quiet
we leave as we came
walking slowly
past the dead
my mother
her parents
and theirs
turning the pages
of our granite family album
the youngest
gather pebbles along the way
for markers of memorial
l clutch the cloth
feeling hungry
for soup
Sympathy Tied in Bakery String
Lucille Iscaro
Lucille Iscaro
the etiquette of death
brings visitors
carrying love
in bakery boxes
a mourners’ meal
set before me
heavy with hummus
bountiful bagels
lox and loss
sideboard studded
with offerings
lying on doilies
sweet mouthfuls
promising balm
in each bite
bereavement babka
studded with chocolate
dark as regret
finished with
a cinnamon hug
condolence cookies
buttery compassion
sprinkled with
sugary kindness
remembrance rugelach
flaky folds
of pastry prayer
I’m warmed by tea
laced with memories
flavored with
honeyed words