Tag Archives: Motherhood


by Bianca Santiago

There she goes again
a part of her unfulfilled
drowning in pain and sorrow
frantically searching the places she walked
with her boys
beautiful dark long curly hair
swaying behind her
as the sun
hits her gorgeous tan face.

The one she had after me in 1977
almost her spitting image.
The youngest
a mix of all the ancestors before him.
She searches for them
through the years finds them
and sees only emptiness in their eyes
from all the lies
they have been spoon-fed.
Their stares like daggers stabbing
a hole in her bosom
leaving behind a gaping hole
in her heart.

Continue reading POETRY: MI MADRE

VOICES: Taking Off Our Masks to Breathe

by Sophia Malik

My stethoscope lingered on the back of my patient. I realized I was steadying my breath more than listening to hers. The fabric she wore to cover her hair had the same feel as the fabric my mother wore during my childhood. It’s not a Walmart cotton. It’s a cotton you can only buy back home: soft and cozy, typically worn by soft and cozy aunties, carrying a scent of food freshly cooked by the wearer.  

Continue reading VOICES: Taking Off Our Masks to Breathe