Morning stretches, coffee on brew,
Email, news, first on the plate.
Hoping today, word from you,
Still silence, more time to wait.

Today again the same old charms,
Laundry waiting on the floor.
Seems heavy in these arms,
Yet, I think there should be more.

Dinner once more was quite pleasing,
Quiet family over feed.
Time passes, I am breathing,
Continuing, almost dead.

Brother moon peeks through cloudy sky,
The evening heavy and still.
Dream my missing child, don’t cry, 
Pray to see you, hope I will.

~ Mellody Gotwalt

The Remarkably High Price of Forgiveness on the Prairie
For my Sister Robin

The man who says he loves her
leaves her
heart shards in a jar of what once she loved
Another who says he loves her
does the same
a game with 
no name
spirit care far from where once she loved
Yet God who says He loves her 
never leaves her alone
on her own
salves her soul full of scars to map how she loved
Souls who know we love her
ask and answer
problems solved
her life is loved.

~ Dawn Karima

Sister, Sister

Sister, sister, I see you...
a mere ghost.
As I look through the mirror
I can’t see...for the silver lining of the cloud
is covered with and in
trauma:  cobwebs of your hair,
the shadow of your hand, and
your face wiped clean of love
and life.

As the wall slams against your head,
physicality becomes real, and in his eyes,
in the reflection in his eyes
you are nothing,
just a piece of flesh to be parted out
amongst the vultures.

The silver lining is on the wrong side,
as you keep looking you can see
thousands of me, there.
But it’s not me again today, guiltily, I thank Great Spirit.
It’s about the shattered women I see
and all their sisters reflecting the light.
There is no opportunity to let up 
against the darkness swallowing
broken shards as
he sticks one through your heart,
pinning you against the wall,
taking far more than just your body this day.

It’s you, 1000 you’s, it is 10,000 you’s,
Just statistics adding up, nowhere.
It’s the slow genocide of 1 million we, us,
as the sickening slaughter, 
mirror after mirror reflection causes you to throw up
as you realize what he’s taken from
the once beautiful silver lining.  It
means nothing, means never,
as each shard continues to shatter
it is one more sister.

My dear sister, friend, mother, daughter, aunt, 
niece, cousin, grandmother (oh yes it is true):
You went missing five hundred years ago,
and keep on disappearing.
Even now, lipstick tears, smeared,
captured in some
gas station bathroom far away.
Or in a rearview mirror
of a truck filled with you’s.
In the watery moonlight near your lifeless body
only some miles away from home.  We are
Violated, desecrated, and cast away...
There’s no silver lining in the clouds 
that hang as so many witnesses,
like us, so silent.

But still, there is one thing
And that is we are loved, and I love you.
No matter how far asunder we are rendered,
When I look in the mirror we are now
One sister, one heart, one spirit,
And I love you.

~ Sheri Watson