The Poet at 45

My son winding up to hit a ball off a tee,
I was crawling out of older motherhood
the way you back out of the tent or debark from a canoe,
careful not to disturb the sides or stand up too soon.
Adding distance between myself and the scattered contents
of a diaper bag, trailing Cheerios, wipes, fruit roll-ups,
as gingerly as my son charged ahead exuberant in a growing body,
I stepped into my office, where I’d relocated everything that was mine
and that couldn’t be lost or torn or shredded,
shut behind me the door of the room from which I’d once sought escape,
carrying the notebook downstairs to the chair, outside to the sun

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Before The Move

We are in the floorboards here
I kneel down and lay my hands
On the old barnwood planks
Our first house—big step
Baby steps, first steps, dance steps

The big picture window where
I always beat the sunrise to the sofa
Pink tumbling over a sleeping mountain
A nursing baby at my breast
Another sun another son

We carved our traditions here
The turkeys and the pumpkin pie
The Christmases the Fourths of July
Birthdays, holidays—all holy days
Our rituals rooted in the seasons

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Twin Fins

Below is the final Part 23 of 23 monthly installments for Visitant. ◄◄ Read the prologue / introduction: Meet Agnes Person ◄ Read the previous installment | Cold Turkey Twin Fins Silver Supper, a singles prayer group, calls to remind Agnes about the Advent prayer list, but no person, her message machine answers in Bea’s voice, is […]

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I Am Death

What I carry inside is a void. It is nothing. The vibrancy of creation, the possibility is absent. There is no sorrow. There is no joy. Nothing. The chasm threatens to absorb me. The death I carry within is incompatible with my life force. Slowly draining. I am not here, nor there. I am not […]

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Mother Hands

“You have a mother’s hands,” My husband said to me when our son was a few weeks old. I was holding a whimpering newborn, cooing and shushing in his ear, while gently stroking his back in a clockwise motion. “Do I?” I smiled, amused that I was now a mother. With mom hands. When do […]

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A Culture of Life Imagined

I’ve been worried about the erosion of reproductive rights.  I’ve imagined these all leading to a dystopian hell where women are arrested for miscarriages and families facing infertility are denied the procedures that would allow them to bear children.  Silly, naive me.  I hadn’t noticed this has already come to pass and is much worse […]

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We Pick Our Battles

  The thick mahogany desk was covered with a thick sheet of plastic. It was as if the doctor wanted to protect the surface of this desk – probably a reproduction, definitely not an antique.  The plastic had little white plastic snaps that attached to each corner, like a Tupperware container. I stared at the […]

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