In the dark silence of the winter’s night
Still, in the rocking chair
In that pause outside of time
Before your featherweight body floats
from my embrace to the crib,
I gaze, dozing, at the ceiling.
There, alien fish swim,
contorted shadows from the nightlight,
eerie shapes spawned in uneasy water.
You also swam once, suspended, blooming, adrift in my belly.
I look down at you, beautiful,
No longer a sea monster of mystery, bumping and crashing,
And wonder if these are your friends keeping an eye on you
In your new world above the surface.
Jan Lower holds a B.A. and an M.A. in English Literature from McGill University, and an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts, where she won the Short Story Prize. Before turning to writing, she practiced law for many years. Her fiction has been published in Hunger Mountain (August 2015) and recently won first place in the 2015 Cape Cod Writers Center Writing Contest. Her article on the novels of David Almond is forthcoming in the Winter (March 2016) issue of The ALAN Review. She is the mother to one daughter and a very large cat, and she writes fiction and non-fiction from a third-floor nook in a sunny house she shares with her husband near Washington, D.C.