by Morgan Rae Glazier
During a Sunday drive,
our mother stopped our white Dodge Spirit
at the base of the Harrisville hills.
She snatched a chisel and hammer,
from the Spirit’s storage,
and said, wait here girls.
For thirty minutes,
my sister and I
stared out the car window,
our mother carving her and her boyfriend’s
initials into a heart-shaped stump
on the side
of US-23 South.
This was the closest my mother
would come to prayer
Morgan Rae Glazier has a Bachelor of Science from Central Michigan University, and is currently pursuing an M.A. in Student Affairs. She writes poetry and non-fiction, and is quite fond of laughing out loud as often as possible.