Return to Top of Page
Menu
  • Close
  • About Us
  • Past Issues
  • Contributors
  • Donate
  • Opportunities
  • Staff
  • Submissions
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Search Website
Literary Mama
  • Current Issue
  • Archives
  • Departments
  • Blog

Poetry | July 2013

Rocking Chair

By Olga Livshin

Where a mortal mom
feeds baby-baby.

Where she rushes
past charred snow,
numb coat,
towards cherries.

Where droplets drop.
Where each swallow
draws a circle
‘round the air that does not hear.
So she also doesn’t fear.

Where the quick quick, take cover,
dear reader.

Where
she’d bought some tix
to traverse the Styx,
but plans
to exit at the secret stop
the one past the terminal.

If
she doesn’t miss the boat.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share This Page

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Email
  • Copy Link

Olga Livshin

Learn More

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Don't miss out on Literary Mama news and updates

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • RSS

© 2022 Literary Mama | Search Site | About Us | Staff | Submissions | Privacy Policy