October
Anastasia Stelse 80 degrees, too hot for October, leaves too green, too attached. The grass keeps growing, seeds. I keep my seeds to myself, thankful each month for shedding—October of the uterus. I think of it as happy not-a-father’s day, not-a-mother’s day alternatingly, even when I’m single. But the first brisk October breeze brings horribly domestic feelings. I want to bake buns, tarts, blueberry scones! I want to deep clean carpets! Buff kitchen tiles, scrub grout on hands and knees to impress another mother-in-law. I want a carpenter to rush home to—real pumpkins—a three-year-old caked in sea-scum. Times like these I need December-- a hot toddy, fresh snow to cool my bed. |
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About the Author: Anastasia Stelse is a native of southeastern Wisconsin, a graduate of the MFA program at American University, and a graduate of the University of Southern Mississippi’s creative PhD program in the Center for Writers. She currently teaches at the University of South Florida. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Poet Lore, Sou’wester, Passages North, Fairy Tale Review, and Crab Orchard Review, among others.