!100! You say mother means [!50! ]. Maybe it means
!50! genius. A plaything for the dark
world. The pretty one. The pear
!100! !50! !10! tree. The axle grease. The weeping
!100! willow alongside the winding
street. The Jayhawk. Or, maybe it means
!200! one of a thousand strands of hair
!50! touched by the wind. Without feathers
!100! !50! or filthy nails or feces. Without voices
saying o [foolish] woman, o [lantern]
!50! heart, o [lost one]: remember
!100! !100! the children. Remember
!100! when you were [
!200! !50! !10! ].
Chelsea Dingman is a Canadian citizen and Visiting Instructor at the University of South Florida. Her first book, Thaw, was chosen by Allison Joseph to win the National Poetry Series (University of Georgia Press, 2017). In 2016-17, she also won The Southeast Review’s Gearhart Poetry Prize, The Sycamore Review’s Wabash Prize, and Water-stone Review’s Jane Kenyon Poetry Prize. Her work can be found in Ninth Letter, The Colorado Review, Mid-American Review, Cincinnati Review, and Gulf Coast, among others. Visit her website: chelseadingman.com.