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Sowing Season

Poetry, Alicia Wright

If your mother had cooked more, had secreted

yellowed recipe cards into a box with your shoes 

when you left home, you would be different.

You do not think this. I think this, watching

your breath bloom hot on the mirror. You see

yourself winterfed, invulnerable —

you are a rawboned healthy, raised on kitchen-

stove potatoes and salt-burdened garden beans

pulled from a front yard plot and I could

knuckle into the flats between your ribs for it.

I might try; I could know you that way.


Alicia Wright is from Appalachia and received an MFA in poetry from Bowling Green State University. Her poetry has appeared in Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel, Kestrel, The Cape Rock, Sweet Tree Review, and elsewhere. You can keep up with her at


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