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march 5th 

march comes in like a lion 

that old saying, it rattles 

in my head as does my breath 

in my tired, burning lungs 


i drag in air, not-enough, no; 

outside, light cracks the night,  

as rain falls and thunder rolls and  

i am reminded of drowning 


in the dark, we two; my mother 

holding me, and as i struggle 

i am reminded of a summer past. 

she tells me again when i ask 


her mother, holding her up- straight- 

safe in the embrace of her arms 

to weather the suffocation of 

exhausted bursts of too-little air 


they two are united, there and now, 

in the shared hope of mothers 

that their daughters may rest & 

breath, with them at their backs 

Elisabeth Jackson. I'm a second-year Liberal Arts major. I've spent most of my life with a love for writing in all its forms, and I've been so excited to see so much of it with the East Fork Journal. Other than writing I spend much of my time with my grumpy hedgehog Bratwurst and playing video games with friends

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