Carolina Hotchandani So the Humans Reproduced For the world required another mirror— proffered by the eyes of the child. For the ocean was insufficient. For the water on windy days withheld reflections, giving back the crests of waves— their…
Katherine Hagopian Berry Mother Cauldron I have ignored you tucked my broom in the hall closet, sickled the sock drawer my wands for rolling pins my cards for games. You must find a desert for me, sunbaked and steep…
Nancy Huggett Intercession: ER Waiting Room For all the mothers, fathers, families wombed and unwombed waiting. For reflections scattered in the glass. For every breath of body holding shaking hand or child on lap. For every thought pinned to…
Christine Stewart-Nuñez Advice to a Former Self Always do something: throw a load of laundry in before the hamper overflows; cut up vegetables for lunch; pay the rent; return an email; compose a don’t forget to do this list;…
Adrie Rose Adrie Rose lives beside an orchard in western MA and is the editor of Nine Syllables Press at Smith College. Her chapbook Rupture was published in 2024 by Gold…
Krista Lee Hanson Snuggling My Son to Sleep Haibun Dearest child, contours of your long face softened in the night’s shadows, thin wisps of first facial hair disappearing in the dark. No room for me on the other side…
Megan Merchant To have a child born in a natural disaster— the rush overwhelmed cactus roots and cracked bed, swept a red truck down the road. A child that burdened from my body of blood and water, one who…
Dayna Patterson Meeting with the Prosthetics Unit They are careful to use the words residual limb and sound limb never stump or good leg always prosthetic and never fake we heft the fake leg made of metal and molded…
Suzanne Edison Mother’s Day at Lake Washington I’ve requested a family bike ride on the closed and rippled lake-road where herons suspend over faltering-fish waters. Once vigorous contortionists, the Madrone trees are drooping as they stave off car exhaust…
Carly Butler Resting Heart Rate After 16 hours of chaos – The daily hustle of begging You (and your sister) to eat, To wash, To dress, To be gentle – The house is finally quiet. You’ve been asleep for…
Arlene Naganawa At the Children’s Hospital The zones are named Ocean, Mountain, River. Post-surgery: Forest. Elevator: Deer. She cries for water, a sip of ice. Needles, tubes. Please, morphine. Please, a cracker. The gift shop sells balloons. Unicorn, cloud. Get…
Julia B. Levine Septic Shock Because he’s been working hard to stay alive, my grandson’s late to take his first steps, say his first words (dada, hi), his hands inventing a sideways wave for both bird and fish, and…