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      December 12, 2022Ways to Break My HeartKaty Luxem

      The first day of school, the small
      clean shoes. A trail of glitter from the new
       
      backpack. The pieces of us we cannot hold
      onto. My mother texts, remember
       
      when you were this age? Waist-high,
      wide-eyed. Look at them go, and now my last
       
      baby is a kindergarten name tag. Do not miss me,
      I am with you. Somewhere in a long, polished hall
       
      stop and think of me. As the years go on
      and on. Open your lunchbox, I have made you
       
      a tuna sandwich, the way you like. The crusts cut off.

      from #77 - Fall 2022

      Katy Luxem

      “I often come back to something Dorianne Laux said. ‘Good writing works from a simple premise: Your experience is not yours alone, but in some sense a metaphor for everyone’s.’ I frequently write about motherhood because it is deeply personal and yet also innately shared. My last child started kindergarten during the pandemic, and I thought about how my feelings were likely the same as parents everywhere, in some sense. We are always letting go. But in the little details, we get to stay.”

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