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



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



The herrings ran

through the summer


Off cycle the

moon's heated



came to the Cape



Rainbow fluxes

black and blood


Mary Mary Mary


stable run.


I was going to

name the baby



It was on

the tip

of my tongue---


The tip which

flipped over


Tucked in for

winter, contracted...


Hauled off the

southern steamer---



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