Poems & Essays

18 Sep


General/Column No Response

I hold my breath
until I see his,
reassurance in the rhythm,
peace in the pattern,
my pulse steadied by his.
I stand guard,
somehow convinced
that my watchfulness
is the only thing
compelling him to take his next breath.
And then,
as the rise and fall of my chest
begins to match his,
tempo tranquil,
cadence calming,
his serenity my meditation,
and we sleep.


Kristen Wood is a mother of five, a writer, a reader, a student, and an aspiring librarian. She has had her work published in Mothers Always Write, Whisper and the Roar, Scary Mommy, and is an ongoing contributor to the online magazine Still Standing, She regularly laughs until she cries and cries until she laughs. She is a proud pop culture geek and a champion napper. Kris loves to make people laugh and to make people think, and if she can do both at the same time, even better.

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September September 18, 2017 White Laurel September 18, 2017