April 12, 2016 at 12:12PM on Facebook

“The faucet. The pipes in the shower. The window

yawning open. The furnace gulping as it wakes up. The awake birds and the sleeping
ones. The whining brakes of the garbage truck. These are things she mistakes for her baby
crying.”

A recent poem from Hannah Stephenson’s poetry-blogging practice, which has been going on for years (and has produced an excellent book: “In the Kettle, The Shriek,” Gold Wake Press, 2013), but which she’s pared down since the recent birth of her first child to these very short, gem-like meditations. The above example is from April 4. Here’s one from March 21:

“We’re going around the block

and as we pass a thing I share its simplest name. A tree. A pond. A bird. A rock. I ask you
if you see them. This is my way of giving them to you.”

Click through to Hannah’s blog The Storialist and find your own favorites. #NationalPoetryMonth
The Storialist