2 Poems Published in Epiphany Magazine


Two poems featured in Epiphany Magazine’s Fall/Winter 2023 issue #31

“Lavender”
“Glass”

Read and purchase issue here: Fall/Winter 2023 issue


“a shutter moves
faster than       a hummingbird’s
memory:
a flower, a lick  a click, a kick
a diaphragm at rest

one eye closed.”

R.J. Petteway, “Lavender”


Glass

the first time, it took four days to remove the glass
from my fingertips, each spoonful of cereal a glass detector

each miniature red can of cold grapefruit juice
bittersweet reprieve, reminder: we gathered

from great grandma Delphia’s fridge, her house
slippers sliding across golden linoleum, veiny hands –

the kind children fear to shake or disappoint
(the kind nurses like, i’ve learned since)

i remember them: the kind that peeled silver tabs
so that i might drink, cool and heal my stinging hands

hers were the kind that prayed and planted rose bushes
split perforated graham crackers without looking

and we looked, oh how we looked, to show our childish love
crossing streets and train tracks, trespassing glass factory

how we looked in our curls and star-kissed glow, looking
out for each other among fragment and fracture

how many treasures we found in those piles of mistakes
cracked and broken, zig-zagging lines and bubbles, dust

how many mother's day gifts we conjured
peanut butter caked beneath uncut nails, giddy

bloody fingerprints signing our joy on vases or jars
or platters, or whatever was intended before its maker bailed tossed it

to a pile where children in grape-jelly-stained tank tops
foraged for magic – smoked and frosted were the best

purple and red, blue and green swirl with unbroken lips
flecks of sunrise orange rising to greet our joyful eyes

we cut our tiny brown hands over and over to give
fresh-plucked dandelion a home, a refractive death

that made mothers and aunties and grandmothers smile
as if they knew all along that we, too, were taken from that pile

that god chipped all of our edges – that we may cut
the untrained hands that come for us

//

swear, to this day i've never bought a vase
i drink rum and whisky and gin ‘til it’s gone

place myself in hollowed bottles, scars and shards
below the rim, and wait for someone to try me


blue        is  a whole mood.
done correctly
a bruise
has umami.

R.J. Petteway, “Lavender”


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