Her Life
by Liz Abrams-Morley
Loving the leap, the fall:
grace to pond to prayer
an ankle won't buckle,
Continue reading Her Life |
Who I Am and Was
By Georgie Lee Blalock III
I reconciled with myself
but despite the forgiving
we still aren’t friends.
Continue reading Who I Am and Was |
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Prayer
By Jennifer Budenski
I watch him watching his hands
as if he doesn’t believe his fingers
will do what he wants them to do—
today, line up pebbles on a fat, wet stick—
unless he’s looking. I watch him
Continue reading Prayer |
Four and a half
By Ann Campanella
There is no boredom.
My daughter spends
her days skating
on the rug, painting
masterpieces, taping
art to the walls, moving
matchbox cars through
an imaginary city.
Continue reading Four and a half |
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First Day ~ A Mother Prays
By Karen Heywood
Notebooks, markers, pencils, pens.
Clothes and shoes in latest trends.
A mother sighs and says "Amen".
They're back in school again!
Continue reading First Day ~ A Mother Prays |
Acorns
by Jacqueline Jules
The gray squirrel in my yard
can sniff nuts under frozen ground,
dig, then hold lost treasure in its paws.
Continue reading Acorns |
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On Contemplating College before Preschool
by Britt Kaufmann
I know you better than anyone
But that will change
The farther you go
The wider I must open
My arms to the world
Continue reading On Contemplating College before Preschool |
Signs of Character
by Jeanne Lesinski
I hear my voice as if far away,
muffled, like gauze held over a wound,
reading aloud about a creature
whose slashing claws threaten,
as drugged, you doze on the bed,
awaiting the plastic surgeon’s arrival.
Continue reading Signs of Character |
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A Letter for Our Holiday
By Mona Loring
There's nothing I enjoy more than celebrating being a mother. Celebrate being your mother, with you.
Just to always be like this, knowing without a doubt what our hearts feel, understanding an unconditional love, savoring the memories that I pray will never fade from this mind of mine with too many memories, I cherish you.
Continue reading A Letter for Our Holiday |
Milkweed
by Lorriann McGarvey
I know I can't hold on to them,
The lean-legged sprawl of boys
My couch is trying to contain.
Continue reading Milkweed |
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ASD
by Alice Osborn
He disappears when I open
The passenger side
Of my Mustang door.
Continue reading ASD |
While Everyone Else Sleeps
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
In small hours when the boy wakes crying,
the arms in the room next door will slowly rise
and enter the nursery. They gather the wailing one
from his crib and settle with him in the rocker.
Continue reading While Everyone Else Sleeps |
