Author Archives: janishaag

(for Rosie) Would mean that you, hatchling,would have pecked your way ourof your shell and emerged, wet and wondering, into a warmingworld, into a flush of green flutteringits leafy fingers, shielding you as you grow. It would mean thatyou know … Continue reading →

(for Margery Thompson) I first made your mother’s custardsfor your mother some 26 years agoin her last year of her life— her faithful recipe neatly inkedonto the 3×5 card that you gave meafter she died. Easy, you said. I, one … Continue reading →

Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night. —Rainer Maria Rilke, from “Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke” ••• If they were cars, they’d be … Continue reading →

(for Popoki) There was rain in the nightjust before dawn when I tiptoedinto the kitchen to peek at hersleeping in the cardboard boxshe had chosen near the back door. I had lined it with towels easilylaundered, now that accidents oftenhappened, … Continue reading →

When you blast poppy orangeall over March likean enthusiastic kid fixatedon that one color screaming“Me! Me!” in the crayon box. You are spitting up poppies everywhereall at once with some stocky lupinethrown in—both the lemon varietyand the vibrant purple, not … Continue reading →

My sister posts under a poem I’ve sharedabout our mother, Miss you and dreamt of you and Dad last night. And I, not for the first time, envy myyounger sister—far more slender, blonder, more organized and efficient than I.But not … Continue reading →

(for Cliff) Deep in the night I dreamyou holding a sphere of light, a mass that requires both hands—do you still have hands?— though light, it turns out is, well,light, hardly weighs a thing, pretty much weightless, butcradled in your … Continue reading →

(for Mom) Two months after you die, we have your housecleaned out and ready for renovation. Three months after you die, on a cloudy day,I drive from my town to yours to pick upfrom the cleaners a couple of Grandma‘safghans … Continue reading →

(for Rosie Just Giel) Today we have a new family memberwho, with some help, has emerged from her shell to find two parentswaiting for her, along with a brother and grandparents eager to tuck herunder their wings to keep her … Continue reading →

My favorite poem is the one I haven’t written yet.—Martha Silano When people ask, it’s impossible to choose.Not just of my own poems, which I can’t recite,but of all the poems that live in my heart, and, thankfully, on my … Continue reading →