Each loss fits inside the others. Each loss folds itself neatly inside, then quietly clears its throat of shame. Holds its eyes up toward day as my eyelashes dust the floor again. Again, I count my losses. Six. Seven. Eight. Sniff their soft bodies. Watch their hands reach toward the tiny gate my pain opens. My tiny pain gate opens and each loss scuffles through hobbling on all fours. Small mammal. Each with chin up in hopes to lick a drop of rain.
Lindsay Rockwell is poet-in-residence for the Episcopal Church of Connecticut and hosts their Poetry and Social Justice Dialogue series. She's recently published, or forthcoming in Calyx, EcoTheo Review, Gargoyle, Radar, and The Dewdrop, among others. Her first collection, Ghost Fires, was published by Main Street Rag in April 2023. She’s received fellowships from Vermont Studio Center and Edith Wharton/The Mount residency. Lindsay is also an oncologist.
3/6 / Meet the Artist with visiting poet-in-residence Keetje Kuipers / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 6:00 pm EST / Free
3/6 / Poetry Reading with visiting poet-in-residence Keetje Kuipers + local writer Julie Marie Wade / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 7:30 pm EST / Free
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Heart wrenching and beautiful. This line I won't forget: " as my eyelashes dust the floor" 💔