Writing In A Woman's Voice is currently on sabbatical. New posts will resume May 7, 2023. Until then, please check out or revisit recent or older posts of excellent women's writing since 2016. Happy days to you and may the muse be with you.  

Potomac Gorge in Tender Flower

by Melanie Choukas-Bradley

 
Wild rocky gorge
Improbable urban neighbor
You own the winter world
 
With your towering cliffs
Singing rapids
And frozen waterfalls
 
Home to
The calling raven, soaring eagle
The diving cormorant and migrant merganser
 
And now it is spring
And your wind-whipped bluffs and scoured floodplains
Cradle the delicate wildflowers
 
Like a great bear holding a fragile bird’s egg
In outstretched claws
Your rock basin coddles the tender
 
Lyre-leaved rock cress
Small white flowers
On trembling stalks above tiny leaf rosettes
 
Under the pines of Bear Island
Nantucket shadbush clings to a crevice
Far from home like so many
 
Unwitting botanical travelers
Ramps, spring tonic of Appalachia
Have found their way downriver
 
The rare white trout lily
Of the Ohio Valley, here
Now, blooming beside her yellow-flowered cousin
 
Here with the bloodroot, the Dutchman’s breeches
The globally rare Coville’s phacelia
The wild blue phlox and golden ragwort, the uncommon twinleaf
 
Tiny ruby crowned kinglets probe
The yellow spicebush flowers above forbidding bluffs
Living ephemera in your land of rock and water
 
You are a raging vertical world flowering
Virginia bluebells your floodplain carpet
As your Great Falls obliterate and bring new life
 

* * * * *

Melanie Choukas-Bradley is a naturalist and award-winning author of seven nature books, including City of Trees, A Year in Rock Creek Park, Finding Solace at Theodore Roosevelt Island and The Joy of Forest Bathing. She began writing poetry during the pandemic and had the good fortune to discover Writing in a Woman’s Voice. The site has featured several of her poems, including “How to Silence a Woman,” and “If I have loved you,” both of which won Moon Prizes. Melanie's poetry has also appeared in The New Verse News. She is working on a nature memoir about the Potomac Gorge.   

 

The Gorge

by Melanie Choukas-Bradley


As I lie here at dawn
Awaiting double biopsy results
I am the wild river in the gorge

Whatever news flows through me this day
Will tumble over great falls
And sluice through the gorge

Family and friends
Scattered above rock walls
Wave to me from the rim, waiting

I am flowing through rock
Breaking through rock
As all my waters from all my tributaries push to the sea


* * * * *

Melanie Choukas-Bradley is a naturalist and award-winning author of seven nature books, including City of Trees, A Year in Rock Creek Park, Finding Solace at Theodore Roosevelt Island and The Joy of Forest Bathing. She began writing poetry during the pandemic and had the good fortune to discover Writing in a Woman’s Voice. The site has featured several of her poems, including “How to Silence a Woman,” and “If I have loved you,” both of which won Moon Prizes. Melanie's poetry has also appeared in The New Verse News. She is working on a nature memoir about the Potomac Gorge.   

Thief

by Laura Ann Reed

            
Early spring, I slip through
           a gap in the privet hedge.

The neighbor’s apple tree
           quivers with white frills of silk.

My mother won’t hold me
           in her gaze the way I stand here

gaping at this tree. Won’t rock me
           like I’m cradled in rain-soaked

winter limbs, sheltered in July
           when the thinnest membrane

lies between the bark
           and my sun-dark skin.

In fall, that profusion
           of small, hard fruit—

tart, with bitter
           seeds. Yet, I eat

and eat—pretending
           they hold sweetness.


* * * * *

"Thief" was first published in ONE ART: a journal of poetry and is part of Laura Ann Reed's chapbook Shadows Thrown (Sungold Editions, February 2023).

Laura Ann Reed, a San Francisco Bay Area native, taught modern dance and ballet at the University of California, Berkeley before working as a leadership development trainer at the San Francisco headquarters of the United States Environmental Protection Agency. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies in the United States, Canada and Britain. She is the author of the chapbook, Shadows Thrown (2023). Laura and her husband live in the Pacific Northwest.

 

Only Now

                 —after Jim Moore

by Laura Ann Reed


But I’m not ready, my father says,
to be taken off the playing field—

and first I bring him shells that hold
the sea. Then river stones. Then I

bring his favorite recordings
of Paul Robeson singing spirituals

and lullabies. These make him cry.
And it’s only now, two decades

later, that I see my error: All he needed
was for me to be with him, to step

closer to his bedside. To allow into my heart
what flooded his—all that loneliness.


* * * * *

"Only Now" was first published in ONE ART: a journal of poetry and is part of Laura Ann Reed's chapbook Shadows Thrown (Sungold Editions, February 2023).

Laura Ann Reed, a San Francisco Bay Area native, taught modern dance and ballet at the
University of California, Berkeley before working as a leadership development trainer at the San
Francisco headquarters of the United States Environmental Protection Agency. Her work has
appeared in numerous journals and anthologies in the United States, Canada and Britain. She is
the author of the chapbook, Shadows Thrown (2023). Laura and her husband live in the Pacific
Northwest.

Finding a Reason to Smile in Spite of Distancing in Spring 2020 

by Virginia Riedman-Dangler


Not just people, with or without masks, cross away
from each other— even the white, wild daisies
that dress the ground in the park
are apart from each other
as are the bare tree branches reaching
for the sun.

As I walk I notice a robin on the dirt path
and he passes to the other side, 
but his song greets me— can you hear it?

Even when you too are far away, 

we too can continue our singing. 


* * * * *

Virginia (Ginny) Riedman-Dangler lives in Rochester, NY with her husband Jim. She is a retired elementary school teacher, mental health therapist and school counselor. Her poetry has appeared in The Mason Street Review, an on-line publication through the Newark Public Library and in the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle. Ginny's poetic inspiration draws upon nature, personal life experience and spiritual themes, with a focus on gratitude and hope. 

Ginny is currently compiling her poetry into her first chap book.

 

the sinking feeling

                                                                                    by Erin Balachandran


settles itself into my chest.
it suffocates me and
my mind goes wild and
i’m feeling a thousand
emotions at once as i try
to not let myself start
crying.

did you know that a woman is much more likely to have depression than a man?

there are nights when
something burns inside
my chest or maybe it’s
the absence of this
burning that i notice i
can’t really tell at this
point.

social anxiety disorder generalized anxiety panic disorder obsessive compulsive disorder,
                                                                                                                           you name it.

i know there’s something
else missing and i can’t
do anything about it what
caused it to abandon me
where did it go
why did it
leave?             

what’s it like to be a neurotypical human being?

over and over and over
and over again i examine
the same scene the same
mistake i made and i tear
the skin off of my fingers i
swear i don’t mean to harm
myself.

what’s it like to have friends and feel loved and secure in all of your relationships?

i swear i’m more than this
imbalance of chemicals in
my brain. i swear i’ll try
my best to not let this ruin
what we have. i swear
sometimes i do want to get
better.

despite it all, i will recover.

i still belong on this earth
i have so much left to do so
much left to share and so
many people to love and
care for. i may get hurt and
suffer but i don’t care.

i am resilient.
i am a woman.
and i’m not done with this world quite yet.


* * * * *

Erin Balachandran has a BA in Creative Writing and Literature from Wheaton College. She has been published in the Rushlight Literary Magazine four times and once in Ibbetson Street Press. Balachandran is a lifelong writer and looks forward to one day publishing a full-length novel.

Sensuous - Daybed – Kiss

by Eve West Bessier


A Rococo, late Baroque sky
comes to mind,

the kind with chubby cherubim
and pink wisps of white cloud
in arabesque over cornflower blue.

Down below,
rests an unclad female figure
reclined on a sumptuous daybed
of red velvet with a myriad
of rosy floral pillows.

Her left arm extends upwards,
waves of amber hair falling
over porcelain shoulders.

Her right arm supports
her form on a pale elbow.

Behind her,
sheer lavender draperies
waft in a slight breeze,
while white cherry blossoms
float in gilded light.

One wayward blossom
touches down,
lands just so,
to kiss her

just there.


* * * * *

Eve West Bessier is an award-winning author and poet laureate emerita of Silver City, New Mexico. She is a columnist for Southwest Word Fiesta (swwordfiesta.org). Born in the Netherlands, Eve immigrated to the US at age seven. She holds a BA in English and a Master of Education. Her writing is widely published, most recently in The Los Angeles Review. Her books include, Pink Cadillacs: Short Stories, New Rain: A visionary Novel, Roots Music: Listening to Jazz, and Exposures: Tripod Poems. Eve is a vocalist, avid hiker and nature photographer. Find out more on her website: www.jazzpoeteve.com

In a Room Up in the Sky

by Shirani Rajapakse


A plane flew into her face.
It happened many years ago,
but she still remembers
like it was last week. The plane
rose in the air
and took a turn towards
the building she was in. Then it dived in.

She was drinking her coffee
and waiting for the computer to start,
when she heard a noise of a bee
buzzing at her window. Except there could be
no bees near her window.
It was too high for any bees to fly.
But she looked up anyway.
And it was then she saw
the plane humming like a billion bees
swarm towards her window.
Then it thundered in
people and all. Her coffee mug
crashed to the ground and shattered
into a thousand and one little pieces.
And that’s all she recollects.


* * * * *

"In a Room Up in the Sky" is from Shirani Rajapakse's new collection Samsara (2022), https://www.amazon.com/Samsara-Shirani-Rajapakse/dp/6249972005/ref=sr_1_1?crid=7LBJVOPCGODS&keywords=shirani+rajapakse&qid=1677215221&sprefix=shirani+rajapakse%2Caps%2C233&sr=8-1

Shirani Rajapakse writes poetry and short stories. She’s the author of six books including Chant of a Million Women, winner 2018 Kindle Book Awards, USA as well as Gods, Nukes and a whole lot of Nonsense and I Exist. Therefore I Am, 2022 and 2019 State Literary Award winners, Sri Lanka. The latter was also shortlisted for the 2019 Rubery Book Awards, UK. Rajapakse’s work has won and been placed in other competitions including being highly commended for the 2022 erbacce-prize for poetry, UK. Her work appears in many journals and anthologies. 
shiranirajapakse.wordpress.com
amazon.com/Shirani-Rajapakse/e/B00IZQRAOA/

After Midnight

by Shirani Rajapakse


Sometimes
a hot cup of coffee in
the middle of the night does wonders for a
restless mind wandering the corridors
of time, fluttering here
and there like a moth
trapped in a room, knocking against doors
locked up for the night, trying to wake
up the sleeping snug in their
dreams, yelling ‘let me out! let me out!’
A cup of coffee, strong, hot and sweet,
just as I like it, can provide strength
in a lonesome night, silent
except for
strange sounds like prehistoric creatures
calling from the trees outside
hidden from view,
never showing faces.

The dog wakes up as she always does
at the slightest sound from
the kitchen.
She will not lift a paw
or give ear for noises anywhere else.
A thief could walk in and take
away the whole house for all she cared,
but a discreet thud in the kitchen;
opening a cupboard, picking up a cup,
and she’d drag herself out of her dreams
to rush in and flop down at
her usual place against the cupboard.
Pushing away the sleep from her eyes
she’d stare up with a
look that says,
“give me something from
what you are having,
whatever it is.”
But alas,
coffee is taboo
for her although she loves
the taste, expects a sip
in the mornings, waits until I finish
let her sniff the cup
try to stick her tongue in
to taste the residue clinging to the sides.
She looks up and sulks as
I sip knowing she
will not get her way here.
Not tonight as I savor my coffee and listen to
the silence of the dark outside.
No rains, no leftover
afternoon heat, the creatures in the trees
now silent, gone to sleep. The only
sound the soft breath of my dog
as she sighs softly to herself
dreaming of things she cannot have.


* * * * *

"After Midnight" is from Shirani Rajapakse's new collection Samsara (2022), https://www.amazon.com/Samsara-Shirani-Rajapakse/dp/6249972005/ref=sr_1_1?crid=7LBJVOPCGODS&keywords=shirani+rajapakse&qid=1677215221&sprefix=shirani+rajapakse%2Caps%2C233&sr=8-1

Shirani Rajapakse writes poetry and short stories. She’s the author of six books including Chant of a Million Women, winner 2018 Kindle Book Awards, USA as well as Gods, Nukes and a whole lot of Nonsense and I Exist. Therefore I Am, 2022 and 2019 State Literary Award winners, Sri Lanka. The latter was also shortlisted for the 2019 Rubery Book Awards, UK. Rajapakse’s work has won and been placed in other competitions including being highly commended for the 2022 erbacce-prize for poetry, UK. Her work appears in many journals and anthologies. 
shiranirajapakse.wordpress.com
amazon.com/Shirani-Rajapakse/e/B00IZQRAOA/

The Best of Things

by Gemma White


We had tried to make the best of things
but you could still hear the mountains
and the trees calling your name.

Before you moved out a baby ringtail possum
appeared and you dangled your arm
out the window to feed it pieces of banana.

Tonight, I am restless, so I go out and remember
how you told me about you 20 years ago
praying on the oval like I do now.

There is not a star to wish upon up there
in the great darkness and all the dogs are going home
now with their owners through the streets.


* * * * *

Gemma White is a poet from Melbourne, Australia. She has released two books of poetry with Interactive Publications - Furniture is Disappearing and Oh My Rapture. Contact her for purchase details or for a chat about poetry at www.gemmawhite.com.au

INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY MARCH 8, 2021

by Clarissa Simmens


MAIDEN AM I

Wandering into a coffee house
Folk guitars fretting the spring air
The words Social Justice echoing everywhere
Book recommendations flung at me
As my adrenaline pumps
Fueled by espresso caffeine
Chain smoking
But unimpressed with toking
Because it stole my essence
Stole ME from ME
Hearts should race with the joy of life
While the seductive music led me on
The boys/men promising love
And I step back gazing
At so many paths up the mountain of youth
But it would be years until I learned
They wouldn’t lead to the same place
Impossible to know, no?
At the age of almost sixteen…

MOTHER AM  I

Dedicated to all us working poor:
I know the pain of a
Rotting car in the rain
Buckets of rain
Wipers refusing to work
Abandoning the car off the road
Running for the bus
The one that only comes
Every two hours
Trying to get to the
Community College
To take my last final exam
After attending four years
To get an Associate’s Degree
Working, mothering, studying
Running for the bus
No umbrella
Bringing the boys to daycare
Dragging an autistic six-year-old
In the middle of a melt-down
While carrying a three-year-old
Trying to make that bus
Trying to get that degree
Trying to get a better paying job
Running for the bus
All the while whispering
“Please, please, please, please…”

MAGE AM  I

Wise woman with a tribal birthright
Finally one who can read and write
In the swirling of oral traditions
Setting out laws and conditions
Eidetic memory of who begat whom
And which herb cures which symptom
Advising the tribal leader’s visions
As he ponders correct decisions
Gently teaching oracles and healers
How to be revealers but also concealers
Divine feminine in silent contemplation
Willing to share her prognostication
Knowledge she will quietly disperse
Knowing all secrets of the universe
Arcana like the Moon’s fluorescing
The High Priestess gladly illuminates her blessing…


* * * * *

Clarissa Simmens holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English and various practitioner certificates in Herbal Studies (first learned from her Grandmother), Traditional Chinese Medicine, and Gi-Jo Acupressure. She is the author of seventeen poetry books available through Amazon. Writing poetry led to translating words into song lyrics and learning to play the baritone ukulele. She makes her home on the edge of a small swamp in Florida where she dreams and sings to the calls of Sand Hill Cranes, the crackling of scampering animals, and the croaking of off-key bull frogs.
https://www.facebook.com/RomaniGypsyBooks
https://poeturja.wordpress.com/
http://t.co/JSvNROn15t (Amazon Author Page)

This month's Moon Prize, the 112th, goes to Joan Leotta's poem "Feather to Stone." It speaks to my own inner feather.


Feather to Stone

by Joan Leotta


You see me as a feather,
as I ride the breeze
down to you, gently
swaying.
You say you
do not even feel me
when I land on your heart,
softly.
Your hardness
deflects my tiny
self.
When breeze calls again,
I float away, weeping for you.
You cannot move.
Your stone self is
stuck
in equally hard earth,
incapable
of understanding that my
very softness,
my lightness, is my
strength.
You are forgiven.


* * * * *

"Feather to Stone" was first published in Peacock Poetry in 2019, and is now also published in Joan Leotta's chapbook, Feathers on Stone, out from Main Street Rag in 2022.
https://mainstreetragbookstore.com/product/feathers-on-stone-joan-leotta/

Joan Leotta plays with words on page and stage. She performs tales featuring food, family, and strong women. Internationally published, she’s a 2021 and 2022 Pushcart nominee, a Best of the Net 2022 nominee, and a 2022 runner-up in the Robert Frost Competition. Her essays, poems, and fiction are in Ekphrastic Review, When Women Write, The Lake, Verse Visual, Verse Virtual, anti-heroin chic, Gargoyle, Silver Birch, The Wild, Ovunquesiamo, MacQueen’s Quinterly, and Yellow Mama, among others. Her chapbooks are Languid Lusciousness with Lemon from Finishing Line Press and Feathers on Stone from Main Street Rag. 

 

Stuck

by Heather D. Frankland


Sleeping Beauty turned to stone, blue eyes, slightly open, became marbles, good luck charms.

People pay 1.50 on Sundays at the happily-ever-after museum to count the cobwebs on her lips, to see the black widow perched on that alabaster cheek.

Boys shove each other, dare each other to claim a kiss, “You could get treasure! You could be rich!” They boast behind their mothers’ varicose-veined legs, that skin like stained glass.

The prince, a janitor, touches everything in the room except her, even when her dust becomes inches thick and the visitors complain; he won’t let one touch commit him to this rescue trade.

A mother goes over to Sleeping Beauty, places one kiss on that unlined forehead. Concentrating her stare, she wills that stomach to take breath, that mouth to cough up words.

But solid is solid, with dreams too heavy to lift and fears too many to stand. Sleepy Beauty focuses on holding her breath and stilling her hand.


* * * * *

Heather D. Frankland holds both a Masters of Fine Arts and a Masters of Public Health from New Mexico State University, and she was a Peace Corps and Peace Corps Response Volunteer in Peru and Panama. She has been published in the ROAR, Plane Tree Journal, Sin Fronteras Press, Sweet Lit, Slippery Elm Literary Journal, and others. She attended the Marge Piercy Poetry Intensive Poetry Workshop in Summer 2022. Her poetry chapbook, Midwest Musings, will be published by Finishing Line Press. Originally from Muncie, Indiana, she currently lives in Silver City, NM where she teaches at WNMU.

DEFINING LABELS

by Susan L. Pollet


One child is labeled as having
Oppositional defiant disorder
His mother wears a
Designer handbag with a label
While another child is labeled a
Juvenile delinquent
His mother wears a
Goodwill hand-me-down purse
No label
One mother is labeled
A social drinker
While the other mother
Is labeled an addict
One mother is labeled
Wealthy
While the other mother is labeled
Homeless
They all come together to sit on
Bolted down chairs in the waiting
Room of family court to see
What can be done to help label
Them as functional


* * * * *

Susan L. Pollet is an author, artist, advocate for women’s and children’s rights, rewired lawyer, proud mother and grandmother, and world traveler. She is a past president of the Westchester Women’s Bar Association and past Vice President of the Women’s Bar Association of the State of New York. She is currently the co-chair of the Domestic Violence Committee for Wbasny.

TROUBLE AT TEN YEARS OLD

by Susan L. Pollet


Raped at ten—just when
The only option was to
Cross a state line for
Treatment—past the time
Allowed in one place but
Not another—new doctor
Trouble at ten
Just when she should have 
Been making friendship
Bracelets and growing crystals
She had to tell four times who
Had snatched her off her bike
And pulled down her unicorn
Cotton Carter’s underwear
And squeezed the life into her
Trouble at ten
Doctor examining her there
Where he did it and bloodied
The unicorn’s horn
Trouble at ten
Raped at ten but now no baby
To take care of because
The Doctor helped to take
Back her life from
Trouble at ten


* * * * *

Susan L. Pollet is an author, artist, advocate for women’s and children’s rights, rewired lawyer, proud mother and grandmother, and world traveler. She is a past president of the Westchester Women’s Bar Association and past Vice President of the Women’s Bar Association of the State of New York. She is currently the co-chair of the Domestic Violence Committee for Wbasny.

Arrival

by Cynthia Anderson
 
 
here is the light
that allows another
day to happen
 
every living thing
leans toward that beam
from the east
 
golden after
the grey of dawn
a slight breeze
 
stirring branches
and leaves—
this is what
 
we came for
the light riding
higher
 
lengthening
shadows
behind us


* * * * *

"Arrival" was first published in Sheila-Na-Gig Online, Vol. 5.4, and is part of Cynthia Anderson's new collection Arrival (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2023).

Cynthia Anderson has published a dozen poetry books, most recently Arrival (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2023) and Full Circle (Cholla Needles Press, 2022). Her poems appear frequently in journals and anthologies, and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She has lived in California for over 40 years. www.cynthiaandersonpoet.com

 

Saltwater Woman

by Cynthia Anderson

 
she’s at the littoral
where churning tides
wear away stone
making space
out of none
 
vibrant green
her long, fine hair
swirls everywhere
as waves rush
into her womb
 
all around her
starfish arms
anemone mouths
spiny urchins
drenched with spume
 
avatar of foam
she travels
the old way
star seed
of ancient days
 
she waits
until you’re
mesmerized
enters your blood
and never leaves


* * * * *
 
"Saltwater Woman" was first published in Natural Inspirations, Inlandia Institute, and is part of Cynthia Anderson's new collection Arrival (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2023).

Cynthia Anderson has published a dozen poetry books, most recently Arrival (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2023) and Full Circle (Cholla Needles Press, 2022). Her poems appear frequently in journals and anthologies, and her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She has lived in California for over 40 years. www.cynthiaandersonpoet.com

 

The Month of March

by Evie Groch


May God speed the day
when we no longer need this month
to tout our accomplishments,
pity our inequality, make overtures
to our overlooked contributions,
point out our piecemeal progress.

Progress? The expansion
of National Women’s History Week
to a month, recognition of it at all
here in our country after it’s been
a global guest since 1911?

Adams, Anthony, Truth, Parks
couldn’t move the needle much
to measure movement so minute.
And this year’s theme brings a tribute
to us as caregivers, frontline workers,
providers of healing and hope.
Where is leadership, courage,
officials in government, on the court,
heading schools, investing, breaking
through in science and health?
Too soon? I posit too late.

I’d give up this month for some true action
on our behalf, for fewer gestures, fewer words;
instead, concrete changes with righteous results.


* * * * *

"The Month of March" was previously published by International Anthology on 3025022.         

Evie Groch, Ed.D. is a Field Supervisor/Mentor for new administrators in Graduate Schools of Education.  Her opinion pieces, humor, poems, short stories, recipes, word challenges, and other articles have been widely published in The New York Times, The San Francisco Chronicle, The Contra Costa Times, The Journal, Games Magazine, and many online venues. Many of her poems are in published anthologies. Her short stories, poems, and memoir pieces have won her recognition and awards. Her travelogues have been published online with Grand Circle Travel. The themes of travel, language, immigration, and justice are special for her.