"Broken Sonnet" by Ronda Piszk Broatch

Broken Sonnet

And still, and still, and still I apologize for
the miracle of my life, to the mother who
wasn’t, for my unlove. The best way to breathe is

to breathe without forgetting to breathe. The mouth says
what a mother asks to hear, holds untold truths
behind its teeth. In a forest I let my mind

run free, unprotected from eagles and crows.
If it weren’t for your unshiny love I wouldn’t
be here, candle-lit and ruined for love. In night’s

shelter chapeled, embodied, my sacredness
shivers. When mother smiles I return the lie,
squelch fear. When mother fears I shelter her fear

within the miracle of my heart, every breath
in clock time as she breathes, breathes, then unbreathes —

Ronda Piszk Broatch

Poet and photographer Ronda Piszk Broatch is the author of Lake of Fallen Constellations, (MoonPath Press, 2015). Seven-time Pushcart Prize nominee, Ronda is the recipient of an Artist Trust GAP Grant, is a May Swenson Poetry Award finalist, and is the former editor of Crab Creek Review. Her journal publications include Sycamore Review, Prairie Schooner, Mid-American Review, Public Radio KUOW’s All Things Considered, and work is forthcoming in Blackbird.

Headshot: Ronda Piszk Broatch

Photo Credit: Staff