Poems & Essays

19 Dec

Gamâl

General/Column 5 Responses

Hebrew for “wean” or “ripen”

Pulling away, she leaves behind the flesh of fruit:
stark black seed of kiwi, blueberry’s torn
skin, red jewels of raspberry.

Grape to my vine, tomato to my garden,
she exchanges green for richer color—
softens, brims, and with her fullness
tugs the stem.

Slowly, slowly—only when she stills
and quiets, will I release her,
and she, me.

Psalm 131:2

 

A previous contributor to Mothers Always Write, Shanna Powlus Wheeler directs the Writing Center at Lycoming College. Her poetry chapbook, Lo & Behold, was published by Finishing Line Press. Individual poems of hers have appeared in a wide range of publications. She lives with her husband and children near Williamsport, PA.

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5 Comments

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  1. Alice Batt

    December 19, 2016 at 6:24 pm

    What a lovely answer to the question so many nursing moms have: “When will the last time be?”

    Reply
    • Shanna Powlus Wheeler

      December 20, 2016 at 4:38 pm

      Thank you, Alice!

      Reply
  2. Ann V. Klotz

    December 20, 2016 at 1:34 am

    Shana, I love this gorgeous piece–this summer, we could meet at Wegman’s—the memoir I’m working on is about spending summers in Eagles Mere! Thank you for this lovely poem.

    Reply
    • Shanna Powlus Wheeler

      December 20, 2016 at 4:40 pm

      Ann, it would be great to meet you! Keep me posted. I’m on FB.

      Reply
  3. Ann V. Klotz

    December 20, 2016 at 1:35 am

    Shanna–sorry, I was typing too quickly!

    Reply

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Raising Cain December 19, 2016 Vigil December 19, 2016