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You have to do it
I explain, it’s a way of survival. Once that staffroom door latches, you have to react. No matter the kids, the fact that your shins still ebb and flow blue, yellow, indigo, or that today she’s rested her head on your arm and purred instead of having flashed those flaring eyes and hissed like the day before. You have to crack the moment, laugh your way through or— you’d go crazy, he interjects, revealing a few thick moments as 911 dispatch. He admits that when feeling the fog settle in like a steel-blue marine haze, that’s when he lets one fly, gives the guys permission, forces the concern to roll off. Except… except for that one time, two kids missing on their Ontario farm. Finally they dredge the pond— a brother and sister, still holding hands
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Contraband
It’s New Year’s Eve 2002, and my two older sons and I enjoy a feast of soft tacos; seasoned ground beef on a bed of sour cream, salsa, diced tomatoes, lettuce, grated cheese, all rolled into a warm tortilla wrap. The phone rings. We hear from my youngest, his menu for the evening. Apparently my ex is serving up his own specialty— clam chowder supreme, brimming with bacon, butter clams, scallops, lobster tail and tiger prawns. Maybe I shouldn’t giggle when picking Kevin up the next day. When I pull in, my son is already outside waiting for me. Our eyes meet just as he gives me the nod and ‘one sec’ hand signal. Then he reaches up into the evergreen hedge and with a smile, pulls out his smuggled goods. A container of soup and a three-pound frozen chicken from their dad’s winter stock.
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Donna Hill lives in British Columbia, Canada with her three sons. She has
been writing poetry since 1998, drawing much of her writing style for
realism from life around her, her family, and work as a child educator. She
is a part time university student earning her Batchelor of Arts in English
and Creative Writing. Donna is also co-creator and poetry editor of Erosha,
an online literary journal of the erotic. Her poems have appeared
internationally, in such issues as Teak Round Up, One Dog Press, Poems
Niederngrasse, Poetry Motel, Peshekee River Poetry, and Slipstream, and have
also been published by numerous literary webzines. "My Hands Write When I
Need Them To," took first prize in Comrades first annual poetry contest in
the UK, and was invited into their anthology entitled, "Uno," 2002. Clean
Sheets Press has published her poem, "Carolina Rain" in their latest
anthology, December 2001. Donna's poetry site can be found at
www.donnamichelehill.com.
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