valleys – Sarah Marie Wells

Confessions of a Tubal Ligation

It’s been a week since our newest, and last, son – Henry Delbert – arrived safely into the world via c-section. He is absolutely beautiful, perfectly content and as predictable of a baby as I’ve experienced. Ever since we became pregnant with Henry, I’ve been coming to terms with this being our last baby -ContinueContinue reading “Confessions of a Tubal Ligation”

Sydney Cast in Shadow

Sydney Cast in ShadowThe garden stroll before a matinee balletbirds of paradise gawking these palms this lushnessthis pristine park dustless alleythese streakfree storefront windowsthis cloudless painless blue this skylineetched with geometric concrete wavesjutting saucer tower arcing bridgesailboat-speckled placid harbor this paper bagsoaked in grease from fish and chipsMe too far away to seemy blurred faceContinueContinue reading “Sydney Cast in Shadow”

In Our Backyard

… a tentative title… and, as all poems go with April PAD, a work in progress. It was time for a poem about my brothers :)In Our BackyardIn our backyard, we were always digging.We needed to practice the artof going deeper, how best to slantthe shovel, step, jump – open up the earth,dump and siftContinueContinue reading “In Our Backyard”

Cascade Valley

Look, my daughter, the pine treedropped its seeds, and herea fragile sapling braves the forest floor.This used to be a birch treebut maybe lightning sliced it,wind heaved its heavy breath against itand now the trunk is rust.Sticks used to flirt, flaretheir skirts of springtime buds,but now we throw the broken limbsinto the rushing floodwaters toContinueContinue reading “Cascade Valley”

Psalm 40

BootsPsalm 40These boots by the door are still cakedwith hardened clay, their leather darkenedby water, still swelling, absorbing,the flannel lining damp and pungent.Clumps of mud stick to the kitchen floor,discarded here and there from the fieldthat pulled and sucked until I was stuck.I will not use the broom – I like the imprintsleft behind, theContinueContinue reading “Psalm 40”

The Swale

Roving feet get suctioned in the swale.Mud leaches between laces and leatherbefore you see the depression coming.The valley looked drier, but spring rainand winter melt had no time to evaporateor seep deeper into the earth, harmless.This land rises up in such a way that dipsare unpredictable. Perhaps shallow cavitieswill always be damp, hollows I dareContinueContinue reading “The Swale”