Baba Yaga’s Child. A poem by Kate Rogers

Baba Yaga’s Child I Baba Yaga gathers tiny corpses of broken birds beneath her windows. She hangs eaves and pine limbs with home-made bone wind chimes, strings bush lout bone-anchors, threads the basket rib cage of a pied biter, weaves in cuckoo wings for lift. At the top of the strand, hummingbird beaks, needles toContinue reading “Baba Yaga’s Child. A poem by Kate Rogers”

3 poems by Ileana Gherghina

Antonine I cried reading Artaud I cried looking out the window, The world Loaded with veils Decomposed veils, I get close to the window to see The window bites my face I am terrified Now everybody can see through my conscience, Five drops of liquid fall on my face Where did they come from? FromContinue reading “3 poems by Ileana Gherghina”

Swimming for Safety. A poem by Sage Tyrtle

Swimming for Safety pregnant, I watched this tv show on Wednesdays in the opening credits this crying toddler would run into his mother’s arms like people swim for lifeboats and I knew that would be us but I am the crying toddler chasing after the cat the cat who is you, who loathes hugs whoContinue reading “Swimming for Safety. A poem by Sage Tyrtle”

The Day After the Day of Mother Love. A poem by Anne Sorbie

The Day After the Day of Mother Love Your knife digs in to the bleat of cheese I add to the morning bread Soft as a prayer revering love the day after the day of mother love The ceramic jug you filled with milk I use for water and your name sings on my daughter’sContinue reading “The Day After the Day of Mother Love. A poem by Anne Sorbie”

Transplanted. Flash fiction by Mansour Noorbakhsh

Transplanted Agitated, my wife came to the bedroom and called me behind the curtain. “She came again”, my wife said. “She said it makes more gardening work for her. What gardening work might it cause for her?” My wife was talking about a Persian Walnut tree that a friend brought us from Niagara Falls someContinue reading “Transplanted. Flash fiction by Mansour Noorbakhsh”

Let’s Pretend it Never Happened. Memoir by Sally Krusing

Let’s Pretend it Never Happened   I know that I got pregnant in February, 1965. I recall the Knight of Nights dance—our high school prom. I wore a long home-made dress made of burgundy velvet, in the empire style. A pink ribbon encircled my body below the bodice, and a wrist corsage of red andContinue reading “Let’s Pretend it Never Happened. Memoir by Sally Krusing”

How to Mother a Woman. Memoir by by Teresa Callihoo

How to Mother a Woman My daughter became a woman on a Thursday. I was just finishing my first semester teaching at a local college, busy giving last lectures and frantically marking student papers. Many of my students, overly vocal about their marks, were emailing me several times a day before their grades were finalized.Continue reading “How to Mother a Woman. Memoir by by Teresa Callihoo”

Doll. Mother’s Love. By Nina Kossman

DOLL “Mama,” said Jemina. “Look, Mama.” “What is it, Baby?” “The doll, Mama.” “The doll? What happened to the doll? Ah, its head. You’ve broken off the doll’s head.” “Mama, I didn’t. It fell off by itself. I picked it up and it was like this already.” “It’s okay, Baby. I’m not blaming you.” “ButContinue reading “Doll. Mother’s Love. By Nina Kossman”

Letter(s) from the Editor(s). Mothering Issue

Letter(s) from the Editor(s):Darcie Friesen Hossackwith guest editors Anne Sorbie and Heidi Grogan   Dear Readers, This month is special for a number of reasons. Spring has finally arrived in the Northern Rockies climate I call home. It is also the month of Mothering, or Mother’s Day, in certain parts of the world. And now,Continue reading “Letter(s) from the Editor(s). Mothering Issue”

Shtisel’s Heart. An essay by Olga Stein

Shtisel’s Heart True love is not for the faint of heart. This may sound like a tired cliché, or else too vague to be of much use to anyone looking to be enlightened. A reader may see it as just a figure of speech—hackneyed and dull in a world teeming with eloquent, pithy sayings thatContinue reading “Shtisel’s Heart. An essay by Olga Stein”