Tania Rochelle
LETTER TO MY SISTER
You know better than anyone
how sad I am come Autumn anyway,
the way the cold brings its melancholy
heavy coat I can’t unzip, and yet
you couldn’t spare me Spring.
Now the ground bleeds green,
the cat won’t nurse her kittens,
and my child looks just like you.
Not new grass and newborns,
death is a bonfire, harvest moon.
Death is a plump, bright pumpkin, and you
should have carved your face in that.
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Date of Birth:
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March 21, 1963
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Location:
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Marietta, Georgia
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Occupation:
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Writing Instructor, Portfolio Center
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Email:
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troche4606@aol.com
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Publications:
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Snake Nation Review, New York Quarterly, Iris; Mediphors, Three Candles, Blue Moon Review, Thunder Sandwich, The Drunken Boat, Stirring, etc.
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Anthologies:
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Split Verse, We Used to be Wives
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Awards:
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Editor’s Choice Award from Snake Nation Review
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