A poem by Lisa Stice

Image: Spring Rhythms by Marsha Solomon

Morning shadows rise and walk with us
down the stairs where we eat our breakfast—
brown sugar stirred in oatmeal, currant juice
and daily vitamins—my daughter’s head burns

under my kiss. This is a day for staying home.
She asks why there is sickness—another question
added to the unanswerable queue—You need
rest, I say and pull a blanket over her. Neither

of us will leave the house. An ant crawls across
the kitchen counter. And so, I kill it. I crush its
small body under the tip of my index finger—
still, I can see the silhouette of what it used to be.

This work was featured in issue #9

One thought on “Fever

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s