Each hurt, a stone; each imperfection,
mortar for the walls. They rise up
like Babel, to the sky, surrounding
my heart like barbed wire fences.
Category Poetry
LOVE WITHOUT THE -LY
Sometimes it comes in burnt-bottom pans
and frayed-end quilts. Sometimes it’s scuffed guitars
played by callous-tipped hands. Continue reading “LOVE WITHOUT THE -LY”
No Turning Back
(As featured on the back cover of the Winter 2013-2014 issue of Evangel)
She was young and scared with nowhere to turn.
She was pregnant and alone with a lot to learn.
She’d been told, “It’s your right to choose,”
But they never told her what she would lose.
She walked in for the operation,
She walked out to self-condemnation.
It was only a fetus, she told herself, It wasn’t a baby;
That’s what they say, but maybe —
Maybe they’re wrong. Continue reading “No Turning Back”
Whitney L. Schwartz 