From our forthcoming issue.

Running  

It was spring and the garden was just green.
On the porch, purple petunias, moss
roses, and you, baby sister, between
blooming and crying. Our mother was
already running. I lifted you to
my skinny hip and ran as far as I
could with you. Not far. I was nine and you
were three. You were safe with me.

When I turn to you this time, I know I’m dreaming.
We’re both tall enough to see over
the high grass. We both know what we’re running
toward. You hold my hand and together
we turn our faces, all our wanting
to the sunset and our brother breaking.


Image may contain: one or more people, tree, outdoor, nature and closeup

Amy Watkins is the author of the chapbooks Milk & Water, Lucky, and Wolf Daughter (coming in 2019 from Sundress Publications). She lives in Orlando with her husband and daughter and a mean-spirited ginger cat.