Hunter’s Moon with Grandson
I am breading skinless breasts,
All Things Considered is on, children
of war, numbering them. Tug of my
shirt, a hushed voice, turn
the volume down.
I want to show you something.
Everyone’s hungry. My fingers
are glopped with flour and egg.
Dining room’s unlit, table’s not set.
It’s a test. My answer counts.
He shows me a window.
October is late. Ascending from
evergreen tops, imprinted on dusk––
a heroic globe of uncaptured light.
*
Kelly DuMar is a poet, playwright and workshop facilitator from Boston. She’s author of four poetry collections, including jinx and heavenly calling, published by Lily Poetry Review Books, March 2023. Her poems, images and nonfiction are published in Bellevue Literary Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Thrush, Cleaver, Glassworks, and more. For decades Kelly has taught a variety of creative writing workshops, including monologue play labs with showcases for the International Women’s Writing Guild and the Transformative Language Arts Network. Kelly produces the Featured Open Mic for the Journal of Expressive Writing. Reach her at kellydumar.com