Author name: Rattle

Audio, Awards, Poems, Poetry Prize

Use Your Words

My son looks up from drawing plants with teeth,
says, “You’re long-gone when we’re at Dad’s,” then tries
to find a better green. I think I’ll weep,
or maybe raise my hand and give him five.

Audio, Poems, Poets Respond

Cocoa Ghazal

Metaphor: my skin and my hair taste like cocoa.
Real life: grandparents kiss under trees heavy with cocoa.

As girls, we’d creak down the steep Dutch stairs,
return with mugs bursting with creamy hot cocoa.

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