Hail the strength of the Mother
left bereft yet living on
The loss of son so sharp
the air is made of knives
carving out our hearts
with each inhale
and exhale into guilty joys
that likewise sting, un-shared
over hurried meals.
Rebuilding my house of life
from yesterday’s rubble
Placing bruised bricks carefully
atop wounded wood
painting over scars that
bleed through layers of time
Perhaps fainter now, but readable
to the trained eye.
Self, treat me well, as well as I tried,
and we will half-heal into a state
stronger than our former wholeness.
Christie (Foxnose) Schaefer (she/they) lives in New Orleans now, but has been many places. A practicing rune reader and norse animist magic-worker, she is in constant search of knowledge. They also spend an inordinate amount of time just observing people and the landscape. Her work explores the deep feelings of motherhood, what it is to be human right now, and kinship in general. She eats a lot of candy.