by Valerie Bacharach
I stand in my kitchen, the sky is still
dark, nether time between night and day,
while my husband sleeps
and the house is quiet, thinking
of making coffee, perhaps read the news,
although nothing will have changed
while I slept. I dreamed
of my sons while the street was empty
of cars and children.
Now I am awake, unsettled,
while knowing the sun will soon brighten
the yard, the finches, sparrows
and robins will fly from one tree to another
while I get ready to swim, to submerge
myself in a pool of blue, high windows
allowing me to see crows move
in silhouette while my body moves through water.
Valerie Bacharach is a member of the Madwomen in the Attic writing workshops. Her writing has appeared or will appear in: Vox Viola, Vox Populi, Whale Road Review, The Blue Mountain Review, EcoTheo Review, Kosmos Quarterly Journal, Amethyst Review, On the Seawall, Poetica, Minyon Magazine and One Art. Her chapbook, Fireweed, was published in August 2018 by Main Street Rag. Her chapbook Ghost-Mother was published by Finishing Line Press in July, 2021. Her poem “Self-Portrait with Origin Story” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.