For Erin

A mother can
watch a mare with its newborn foal
dozing in dusty sunlight
and remember earliest days
when all there was
was sleep.

She will nod in understanding
when later, the foal learns
about grass, water
because a mother can
never stop teaching.

And someday the mother
will watch her own offspring
riding together
maybe too far out
maybe into the brambles
but if there’s anyone
who can call them back,
a mother can.

*

Farm Couple on a Pyrex Bowl

In the wedding picture
they stood closer than they ever had.
She felt a tickle on her palm
his young hands dry already.¬

Every night she shook out her apron
hung it on peg rail in the bedroom
where between them something germinated.

When she worked, the rustling:
the shisk-shisk of desiccated husk
supplanted the silence in their valley

and with the tractor in the barn,
at night his mind was quiet
just enough to hear it, too.

How willingly resentment grows.
If only they had known
it’s nothing like wheat.

*

Lady in Church

Nobody minds
how loudly she proclaims
“I love you I love you”
white-haired, she is the child
we’re jealous of this vision
she has gained
where every day is Sunday
and nobody wonders,
“Is it sad,
or is it beautiful?”

*

Jessica Whipple writes children’s picture books and poetry, and has published two of the former this year. Her poetry has appeared in print and online literary magazines like ONE ART, Pine Hills Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, Funicular, and others. She enjoys exploring domestic life, parenting, faith, and childhood in her work. To read more of her work, visit AuthorJessicaWhipple.com.