Sarah Doyle

      Snowdrift From solitude to servitude I went: a stepmother’s bane, to maid-of-all-work for grubby curmudgeons. dust     sweep     scrub     sleep How the chores call to me, a broom-brush song that bristles at my hearing’s edge. How grudgingly I...

Moyra Donaldson

      A Sudden Shaft of Light My demented mother who doesn’t know me anymore, looks up as I come into the room. Ach – there’s my wee darling Moyra she says, such love in her voice that everything falls away but love. The slate is clean, and I, new...

Olivia Tuck

      Lullaby for the Child I Will Never Have Sometimes, in my dreams, I sing to you of mice running up the clock, of four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. I love you too much for fledglings severed by magpies: I found a chick once – feathers...

DL Shirey

      Sunday Dress Ileana loved to make clothes. Afternoons after school she sat at my worktable, arranging patterns like jigsaw pieces to fit a length of fabric. These skills I taught her, daughter of my daughter, because her mother was not around to...

Maureen Kingston

      Hooking Up Civilization writ large shouts “all roads lead to Rome.” Civilization writ small builds the roads. The paper clip’s one of the latter, a civilizational bit player that resembles all the other clips swimming in the jar. Its...