when the air cools at dusk,
scent of primrose
on chiffon. I press my face
to her shawl, inhale
remnants of warmth.
She is music floating up
from the dining room,
where melody dwindles
to absence. I recoil
against the fire-glow end
of her cigarette.
She, the honeyed hall light
under my door after someone else
puts me to bed
and the darkness afterward.
She, the grass-scented air
in June, tender blades
rising from sunless peat
and the footfall forcing them back
down. When she tells me
I am nothing, I believe her,
point myself toward places
where nothing belongs.
Isabelle Walker
Isabelle Walker's poem "My Mother's House" was selected as a finalist in december’s 2021 Jeff Marks Memorial Poetry Prize. Her poems have also appeared in the Santa Barbara Literary Journal, Cathexis-Northwest Press, Seven Hills Review, and the anthology While You Wait. Isabelle received an MFA in Creative Nonfiction and Poetry from Antioch University Los Angeles. She lives in Santa Barbara, California.
