Artifact: Photo the day after my brother’s suicide

Julie A. Cox
Published on April 3, 2025

My parents smile as though 

politeness in a disaster 

is expected of them. 

Their minds are the charred rooms 

after a house fire, their eyes 

the caved-in frames 

of burned-out windows. 

They stare at the camera 

like it’s an oncoming car 

they face with stunned embrace. 

I cannot look away. It’s as though 

to absorb their pain 

is both honor and violation. As though 

I am the vehicle bearing down on them. 

 

Genre: 
Poetry
Author Bio: 

Julie A. Cox received her MFA in creative writing from the University of Minnesota, where she was an Edelstein-Keller poetry fellow. A finalist for the Loft Mentorship Series and Writers@Work competition, she has had poems published in Cream City Review, Hanging Loose, Salamander, and elsewhere.

Issue: 
62