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

Poetry | February 2014

Empty House

By Jennifer Givhan

The kids are out of the ribcage, string-
broken. At school, perhaps. Taking
a walk. They may be safe.

Perhaps the kids will never return.
Do you wait for them at the kitchen table?
Ladle extra gravy on the mashed potatoes?

You imagine you could find joy,
with or without the kids.

You imagine you were full
to begin with. Never without
purpose. Never sick
with wondering what could happen
while the kids were gone.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.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

Share This Page

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Email
  • Copy Link

Jennifer Givhan

Learn More

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Don't miss out on Literary Mama news and updates

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Instagram
  • RSS

© 2023 Literary Mama | Search Site | About Us | Staff | Submissions | Privacy Policy