poetry on mamazine:

Again.
by Michelle Taylor

Junkie
by Elizabeth Schott

Looking-glass
by Heather Williams Elder

I Am No Mary. You Are No Lamb.
by Jill Crammond Wickham

Three Poems: DisOrder, Some Questions for the Virgin, and Behold
by Maureen Geraghty Rahe

Mis Ojalas*
by Violeta Garcia-Mendoza

Nap
by Kris Underwood

First Spoon
by Odarka Stockert

Fishbowl
by Stephanie Duve

Water Sprite
by Cynthia Bostwick


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POETRY

Language
by Kristen Berger

In the impulsive but exacting reach she finds,
just right for picking, pea pods cupping
fat green pearls under a cool June sky.
Morning bears the hunger for a sweetness
that shells to the tongue like a new word,
that golden emerald, that chrysalis
she can suddenly name, inside and out,
waxing from vine to mouth
with one sure, toothy snap.
She combs the trellis with fingers
seasoned to their chambered chords,
this moment shucked and rolling,
as she claims and devours
their simple, green song.

Kristin Berger lives in Portland, OR with her family and writes poetry, essays, and fiction. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming, among others, in The American Poetry Journal, The Comstock Review and online at Mom Writers Literary Magazine, Hip Mama and Hot Metal Press. You can read more poetry from Kristin here, here, and here and her essays here and here.