A Loss in August

I was going to name

the baby James.

And then I saw

a rainbow hover

over my first blessable

Kids on a Walmart

day; I thought

Good idea God,

I should name him

rainbow

But the rainbow turned

rusted red in my

Dream and the cackle

witch was hunting in the pre-

Dawn; tight-lipped

she pried apart my

Trial-dam and I heard

hungry gulls swoop---

5am so cool in

cold light flattens

Everything. I had doled

miracle, angel..... and

Ahem, ahem, the

colorful word

Caught a hook

in my throat

Big momma

grouper shredded white

In vinegar, ceviche

bath stings even

Below, even when

I was

baby mama de

Alejandro

The herrings ran

through the summer

Off cycle the

moon's heated

Sister-in-law

came to the Cape

uninvited

Rainbow fluxes

black and blood

Mary Mary Mary

consummated

stable run.

I was going to

name the baby

James.

It was on

the tip

of my tongue---

The tip which

flipped over

Tucked in for

winter, contracted...

Hauled off the

southern steamer---

done.

Elisabeth Horan is a mom in Vermont writing poems and trying to figure out her happy place. She has work in formercactus, Moonchild Magazine, Milk + Beans, and many other wonderful journals you like. She marvels that poems invite others into her mind, a place where the light doesn't always shine. There is a chapbook “Pensacola Girls” with Kristin Garth and Bone & Ink Press. @ehoranpoet / ehoranpoet.com