By Ann Howells
You are sea glass, river rock,
smelling of salt.
You are the androgenous angel
who inhabits doorways flung open
to gardens and forests.
You appear –
nimbus of white on sunny afternoons.
You drift dirt lanes,
recline in a favorite blue chair –
both mother and father.
You raise a blue-veined hand
raise quiet words within my ribs.
Your skin, semi-lucent,
drapes bone so delicate
you seem not flesh but reflection
floating away on the water’s surface,
leaving me orphaned.
About the Author
Ann Howells edited Illya’s Honey for eighteen years. Recent books: So Long As We Speak Their Names (Kelsay Books, 2019) and Painting the Pinwheel Sky (Assure Press, 2020). Chapbooks include: Black Crow in Flight, Editor’s Choice in Main Street Rag’s 2007 competition and Softly Beating Wings, 2017 William D. Barney Chapbook Competition winner (Blackbead Books). Her work appears in small press and university publications including Plainsongs, Schuylkill Valley Journal, and San Pedro River Review. Ann is an eight time Pushcart nominee