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

Poetry | January 2019

Outside Taliano’s

By Nina Prater

The near-full moon is shining through thin clouds and thick
leaves of the old magnolia.
We pace the short stretch of sidewalk, down and back
my one-year-old son
in soft pajamas, warm head settled against my chest.
The restaurant was too loud,
the food for our gathering of twelve too slow. Grandparents, parents
and children celebrating
but anniversaries mean nothing to babies and nothing
to me right now. We two,
mother and child, bobbed in an eddy outside the current
of conversation. I made a face
of regret as we slipped out of the too-bright room overtopped
with talking,
but felt none. It’s easier to be alone together. We breathe in
the quiet, his limbs
slumping deeper into my arms as we turn—me, my son, the magnolia,
the darkness and the moon.

1 reply on “Outside Taliano’s”

Reba mizesays:
January 31, 2019 at 7:58 am

Nice mood

Reply

Leave a Reply to Reba mize Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.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

Share This Page

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Email
  • Copy Link

Nina Prater

Learn More

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Don't miss out on Literary Mama news and updates

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • RSS

© 2021 Literary Mama | Search Site | About Us | Staff | Submissions | Privacy Policy