By RR Ewart
I never heard you cry
But I see the tears in your eyes as you hold a cup to my lips.
You tremble when you walk dear mother,
Will your child be as ghostly as you?
I see the angel stretching its failing limbs in a scene of pleading
As my body begins to break in my deepest heart’s core.
The blithe under our eyes and behind our lungs
Eats away at the soul like the leaves beneath our aching feet.
RR Ewart (she/her) is a writer and artist from Reno, Nevada. She works as a high school English teacher, is an accomplished book-hoarder, and a recovering procrastinator. She is completing her first novel and chapbook publication. Follow her to read more of her work on Instagram.