I am a motherless child
in winter,
I am a childless mother
in the profusion
of spring.
I am an empty vase
on a summer sill,
a dream catcher
hanging by a thread
in a dark window,
I am October’s tears.
TERRI WATROUS BERRY’S work has appeared over four decades in anthologies, journals, magazines, and newspapers, her poetry this year included by, among others, Last Stanza Poetry Journal, Gnashing Teeth, Peninsula Arts Magazine, Blood & Bourbon, and Pure Slush for the final volume in their Life Span series, Death. A Michigan septuagenarian, her pursuits other than writing have involved singing in a garage band in her thirties, running a resort on a small lake in northern Michigan with her second husband, Terry, after marrying him in Terry, Montana, and a return to college at forty following a twenty-eight year absence. She obtained her B.A. the same year the youngest of her three children graduated high school.
