Tag Archives: Amy K. Rowland


by Amy K. Rowland

My sisters and I were pretty good kids
so we were always eager for
Christmas to come back. In
anticipation, we would sing carols
year-round, much to the annoyance
of everyone who knew us.
Even recently, though so much older,
we woke up Sara’s thirty-year-old
boyfriend by belting out Deck the Halls
at 3 am on a long car ride
home from the beach. He was pissed.
We believed in Santa really late, even
after our parents told us the truth.
Well, we reasoned, maybe they were
lying still. Maybe they don’t really want
us to move in with him like we planned.
We didn’t care how old and fat he was.
He always brought us better gifts.
Later, we accepted they weren’t lying,
and that hurt us a little, but we had to
grow up. We couldn’t believe in Jesus or
Frankenstein anymore, so it was
only fair to sacrifice Santa. And
December has grown a little dim.
But there is still something about
standing outside my parents’ house
in the darkness of Christmas Eve
that gives me some hope for faith.
Through the pines in the backyard
I see stars.
It is silent, and I remember the
three of us sitting in the living room
after my parents decorated
the tree, squinting our eyes
at so many lights.


In Early Spring

by Amy K. Rowland

I want you to know that I once ate
the perfect bbq chicken sub
at this Royal Farms one spring night.
Think of me in that old blue Ford looking
out my window at so many stars
with a sub in my hands.

Today there is a sky
and it is blue and I see three birds
in a tree, the luckiest number
you can count on. I have not been
to this place in years, but I still
know it well and the sub is wonderful.
I will think of you, too, in this place
a long time later and will say it here
so that these things will not disappear.

Nothing Ever Breaks Completely

by Amy K. Rowland

You have gone, but I know it won’t
be forever because I can still
smell your face on the pines,
and I think of the day we skipped
work to sleep in together,
body on body and sheets in gray light,
and later how we walked quiet through
these trees in the park and breathed
the sky and brick and worms and hair
and all noises on surrounding city streets.
I still dream of the rest of our lives.
There are many songs inside my teeth.
Everything turns into everything,
leaves blow into the sky and then
come back as thunder.