E.L. Blizzard
First Generation
Today is like any and no other. My oldest child is at school plotting his path. The two youngest are buckled in car seats. A bag hangs ready for my daughter’s motion sickness. Now that she can reach the window button, sharp air blows on her face. I finger-shake my ear as it pulsates from the buffeting. My son mouths words to a bug on his window. We sing along to our Space Jam CD for the one-hour drive. I squeeze a day’s worth of goodbye into both of them and thank the campus childcare workers, then walk-run to my morning class. Sliding into a seat, dropping my bag, opening the text, years disappear; I concentrate on this freedom, this mind.
graduation waving to those who said I wouldn't do
About the Author
E. L. Blizzard lives in the U.S. South. She’s published in The Other Bunny, Drifting-Sands-Haibun, cho, Bones, Wales Haiku Journal, Failed Haiku, #FemkuMag, Poetry Pea, Autumn Moon, Under the Basho, and others. She’s worked in advocacy, allying with immigrants/refugees, cis/straight/LGBTQ+ survivors of intimate partner violence, and those experiencing homelessness.