Jennifer Hernandez
Chrysalis
Stretched in his twin bed, my
youngest son, eleven, lies
wrapped in pale green.
The rest of us awake for hours.
But it’s summer,
nowhere urgent to be. I
let him sleep.
This journey is not new to me.
He has two older brothers.
Before long, I know, I’ll glimpse
flexing in front of the mirror,
hear from behind closed doors
the deep voice
of a stranger-son.
This minute though,
between sleep-and-waking,
he is my baby.
Past noon, shades open,
sun streaming in, I lie down
next to him, smooth his hair,
nudge him awake with my voice.
Those wings, still drying,
soon ready to fly.
Jennifer Hernandez studied Applied English Linguistics at UW-Madison and has made a career teaching English in Japan, Mexico, Texas, and Minnesota. Her poetry, flash, and creative non-fiction explore themes of identity, social justice, and the natural world. Her work has been widely published, most recently in Visual Verse, Steam Ticket, and Heron Tree. She enjoys sharing her writing through online and in-person readings, and her poems also grace two Minnesota poetry walks.