And here we are at the end. If you watched or commented or both, thank you. I’ve enjoyed this little project and until I see you again, take good care of yourself.
This poem first appeared in The Indianapolis Review.
Category: Uncategorized
National Poetry Month/The Knife
Only one more poem left! Hope you’re all well wherever you are.
National Poetry Month/The Feather Collector
National Poetry Month/My Son Asks Me Why We Cannot Go into the Clouds
National Poetry Month/My Son Asks Me What is Left or An Ode to the Wrens Who Nest in My Hanging Plants
Happy Sunday, loves. Hope you’re well wherever you are.
This poem originally appeared in Issue 8 of Parentheses.
National Poetry Month/Cutting My Son’s Hair After a Bath
National Poetry Month/Hollow Stars
National Poetry Month/Mosaic
National Poetry Month/Not All Lifelines Are Found on Your Hands or An Ode to My C-section Scar
A poem for my body today. Hope you’re well.
National Poetry Month/Birth Plan
A poem about the fraught situation that was my son’s birth. Hope you’re all well.
Brianna Pike 