Naked
The fall your father died all the leaves came down
in a three-day rainstorm. It was a damned fine storm.
The rain went on steady, one day into the next, while
leaves fell slow and constant, regular as raindrops.
The last hay baled weeks before, farmers at the co-op
had nothing to do but nod and rock and spit, and watch
the trees strip, till they were naked in the carpeted fields.
You were thirty-four the year those wet hills unrolled, glossy
as a calendar picture, and you took your father’s cancer
like you did the weather. Under the dripping eaves, your chair
tipped back, you talked about the hay, but you seemed slighter,
more like a boy, as if your father’s passing gave you back
childhood, stripped you, washed you down. As if he
fathered you, dying, and you could be naked then, being his son.
- The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Apostasies by Holli Carrell - May 8, 2026
- The Wardrobe’s Best Dressed: Apostasies by Holli Carrell - May 7, 2026
- Sundress Reads: Review of Under The Rain - May 6, 2026



