Tiny Feet

Amy Turn Sharp Poetry 0 Comments

you are tiptoeing
across the threshold of babyhood
your tiny feet
make noises
like a creaky staircase
that lives in my heart
I am the old lady at the top
peering down
and I sing Tom Petty to you

What Are Weekends For?

Lilly Bright Poetry 0 Comments

Once upon a time, the weekends were for catch-up. Now, “catch-up” is the red sauce splattering on white jeans as my son sails a french-fried potato into my lap.