by LAUREL RADZIESKI
But decides to have the baby anyway, even knowing that her stomach is hollow, she continues the vitamin doses, breathing motions and her avoidance of seafood, convinced that these efforts will result in a re-germination of seed, that she will be transported back to the place where her role was maker and mother. While waiting for her womb to leap, she takes up quilting, crowding the fabric into her lap and over emptied belly. The gentle nudge of needle into puckering cotton followed by the emergence of sharp point gives comfort. Her smooth tool stitches from back to front. Every gesture reminds her of birth.
About the Author
Laurel Radzieski's debut poetry collection, Red Mother, was published by NYQ Books in 2018). She earned her MFA in Creative Writing from Goddard College. Laurel is a poetry editor for Clockhouse and her work has appeared in The Golden Key, Really System, The Slag Review and other publications. She has been a Writer-in-Residence at the Wormfarm Institute and lives with her husband in northeastern Pennsylvania.
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