Driving back home, Kate took
the scenic route, deflecting
the sting of the bimonthly visit.
She’d stop for some camomile
to detox from the angst about
Anna, her mom, in recovery.
Key to the door, she kicked off
her heels, with lips on the bottle,
salt on the side, hold the ice, as
she slept until Sunday surrendered
her sanity.
When not writing poetry, Emalisa Rose enjoys crafting and drawing with charcoals. She walks with a birding group twice monthly through the trails in her state. She volunteers in animal rescue and tends to cat colonies in the neighborhood. Her work has appeared in The Rye Whiskey Review, Mad Swirl, Literary Veganism and other wonderful places. Her latest collection is "On the whims of the crosscurrents," published by Red Wolf Editions.
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