Cutting It

    by Tina Hacker

Ellen remained sane long enough

to give birth to a healthy

nine-pound baby boy.

She pushed out all her strength

and grew fragile as lace.

After three years,

she turned into scissors,

cut holes into the lace

until her son, nearly breathless,

fell through into the arms

of his grandparents.

His grandfather stood the boy up

on the back porch

and with large blunt fingers slapped

the dust of madness

off his shirt and pants.

Holding the screen door open,

the old man watched the boy

race for the trees, deeply rooted,

promising fruit every year.

His grandmother prepared a room

for Ellen, lined it with batting

like a drawer for family heirlooms.

Ellen stayed inside

untarnished by the outside world,

her mind engraved with words

only she could decipher.

© 2009 Tina Hacker

A Pushcart Prize nominee, Tina Hacker was a finalist in New Letters and George F. Wedge competitions.  Her poetry has appeared in journals such as Bellowing Ark, Blue Unicorn, Piedmont Literary Review, I-70 Review, Mid-America Poetry Review, Kansas City Voices; two anthologies, Show + Tell and Missouri Poets; and upcoming anthologies from Helicon Nine Editions and the Imagination & Place Press.

Editor’s Choice