Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
All That There Is

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       Go to sleepy,
       little baby.

       Go to sleepy,
       little baby.

You discover
rain comes from sky,
today, a word

just learned, baby
hand held out to

days after you
made a word for
birds, planes, caw-caw,

one word for love,
la, everything
yet to be named

       Come and lay
       your bones
       on the alabaster stone

is that, just weeks
after you found
the moon, so soon

after dada,
dog, no. You do
not know a world

that is always
turning, moving
toward entropy,

that everything
expires. Sleep.

       Go to sleepy,
       little baby

       Go to sleepy,
       little baby

know everything
firsthand, all that
there is, know that

stars are fixed each
night in the sky,
that the moon moves

       You and me
       and the devil
       makes three

from window to
window, to look
in other rooms.

Holly A. Schullo received an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of South Carolina (2001) and is completing a PhD in English at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette (2005). Recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Louisiana Literature (as a semi-finalist in the 2003 Louisiana Literature Prize for Poetry), Interdisciplinary Humanities, Poems and Plays, Dirty Swamp Poets, and Yemassee. She was a finalist in the 2003 Calyx Lois Cranston Memorial Poetry Prize. She has completed a manuscript of poems titled, A New Year of Thirteen Moons.

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