Alec Solomita’s fiction has appeared in the Southwest Review, The Mississippi Review, Southword Journal, and The Drum (audio), among other publications. He was shortlisted by the Bridport Prize and Southword Journal. His poetry has appeared in The Ekphrastic Review, Gnashing Teeth Publishing, The Galway Review, Bold + Italic, Litbreak, Subterranean Blue Poetry, The Blue Nib, Red Dirt Forum, and elsewhere.  His chapbook, “Do Not Forsake Me,” was published in 2017 and is still available at Finishing Line Press and Amazon. His first full-length book of poetry was published last April by Kelsay Press. He’s working on another. He lives in Massachusetts.

Floristic

The dark, pink azaleas are budding
this dark gray morning.
My parents are gone
a quarter of a century
and I would say I’d join them soon
but what do I know?

I think they’re called
Autumn Bonfire, blooming
From first spring to first frost.
I’m not sure. I can’t trust myself.
Not a single one of my thumbs
Is remotely green.

My step-niece was a yellow rose
Thorny, full of bloom
and antidepressants,
dowsed with benzos,
gone before her first frost,
on a busy highway.