By Gillian Kessler. He is all elemental, stick and strength, born of my strong body, his muscles rest in mine.
Tiny Feet
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
In the mouth of a child
like a tin can telephone
your voice travels to me
mama
mama
mama
Extraterrestrial, My Baby Bird
A poem by Danielle Stricklin.
What Are Weekends For?
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.
My Two Little Honeys
A poem by Amanda Buck.
Cherishing All The Tiny Moments
A poem by Kristy Hartz.
Coming Home
A poem by Kristen Gunning.
The Open Window
A poem by Gillian Kessler.
The Last Day
A poem by Alison Lee.