Poems & Essays

19 Sep


General/Column No Response

The midday sun spilled gold
between the womb of the boughs,
and under this hulking oak tree,
my son punctuated the August sky
with his triumphant upswings,
Moccasin feet peppered the sand
in the downswings.

For a moment, I moved with haste,
fingers slid to tuck a strand
of chocolate hair behind his ear,
our eyes caught in the raw jubilation
of dancing atoms, and something else
that was cautiously porcine like
a heavy gush of warmth over
the baked terrain.

Upward then earthbound,
his swings grasped for an antithesis
as fatigue petted my torsos
between pauses, then ever so startlingly,
my son held out arms like streaking birds,
two straight lines sweaty about my neck
where he left plethora of breaths into
the alcoves of my shoulder blades,
“Mommy, I love you.”


A Pushcart nominee, Lana Bella is the author of two chapbooks, Under My Dark (Crisis Chronicles Press, 2016) and Adagio (Finishing Line Press, forthcoming), has had poetry and fiction featured with over 270 journals, 2River, California Quarterly, Chiron Review, Columbia Journal, Poetry Salzburg Review, San Pedro River Review, The Hamilton Stone Review, The Ilanot Review, The Writing Disorder, Third Wednesday, Tipton Poetry Journal, Yes Poetry, and elsewhere, among others. She resides in the US and the coastal town of Nha Trang, Vietnam, where she is a mom of two far-too-clever-frolicsome imps.

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