Category: Poetry

Old Woman’s Pivot Story

When they pulled him from the Grand half- drowned, we thought he was safe. He ate boiled cabbage and potatoes. He worked in the barn. But the river broke my brother’s heart. Only a week later, he fell in the…

Planting My Father

I stop when I see the small black box; all that remains of the body I kissed goodbye. I can’t put you on the mantel as my sister asks; I find more peace sliding you into my mother’s desk until…

The Last Thing I Do for My Mother

          i. We made light of it—her pressing need, creases sharp as pain, even jeans. Spray bottle, television, for nearly 40 years a cigarette yet never an accidental burn on the cloth she tortured into shape.…

Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes

For BAB Fourth of July, 1987. Oh say can you see We donated her corneas, the only organs undamaged. A man in Wisconsin saw his toddler granddaughter for the first time. Nobody raced to pick up the phone when it…

Acceptance

And you’re still gone now that we’ve turned Our eyes and tears and look ahead To birthdays, movies, money earned And spent… but you are dead. — Juleigh Howard-Hobson Juleigh Howard-Hobson’s poetry has appeared in Poemeleon, Trinacria, The Lyric, The New…

Loss

My leg aches moans the old woman rubbing the void. Phantom pain proves real enough for her, loss of limb shocking nerve and tissue a fit subject for grief despite prevention which requires pruning gangrenous blight. What was there is…

I Drag His Death After Me

I drag his death after me, its details a kind of communion, taking him in day after day, him becoming my body, my blood, I becoming his, we are co-mingled in a way that would not be allowed if he…

Missing

five then four an arm waves its goodbye could have been on the walk or on the train falling not graceful like a leaf quickly dropping all over in a matter of seconds an arm hangs limp exposed useless as…

Acceptance

Once, before I knew you (which seems impossible now), I dealt with the sting of unrequited affection by buying a dozen dollar store wine glasses with my roommate for the express purpose of smashing my share on the brick walkway…