In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

  • Uproot
  • Jen Edwards (bio)

My mother kneels in the dirt, salts slugs.The garden is tame and well behaved,unlike my mother, who whispers, “You don’t belonghere,” as she yanks weed roots. She braces wire

in the earth, a soft curve ensnares blind tulipbulbs. My sister and I used to rubthe lamb’s ears until the velvet wore down.We watered its soil, but the tips browned

from touch. Mother drowned it, made us watchthe crawl of thirsty ants color it black.She warned us against touchingwhat was not ours.

The chicks and hens needed protection.She anchored her shovel, turned her back. [End Page 463]

Jen Edwards

jen edwards’s poetry has previously appeared or is forthcoming in The Normal School, The Pinch, and American Literary Review. She is a PhD candidate in English at Oklahoma State University. Currently, she is an associate editor of Cimarron Review.



Additional Information

Print ISSN
p. 463
Launched on MUSE
Open Access
Back To Top

This website uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience on our website. Without cookies your experience may not be seamless.