Sharon Waller Knutson is a retired journalist who lives in Arizona. She has published eleven poetry books including My Grandmother Smokes Chesterfields (Flutter Press 2014,) What the Clairvoyant Doesn’t Say and Trials & Tribulations of Sports Bob (Kelsay Books 2021) and Survivors, Saints and Sinners (Cyberwit 2022,) Kiddos & Mamas Do the Darndest Things (Cyberwit 2022,) The Vultures are Circling (Cyberwit 2023) and The Leading Ladies in My Life (Cyberwit June 2023.) Her twelfth collection, My Grandfather is a Cowboy is forthcoming from Cyberwit in 2024..Her work has also appeared in Poetry Breakfast,  Lothlorien, GAS Poetry, Art and Music, The Rye Whiskey Review, Black Coffee Review,  ONE ART,  Mad Swirl, The Drabble, Gleam,  Muddy River Review, Verse-Virtual, Your Daily Poem, Red Eft Review, Beatnik Cowboy, The Five-Two, Black Coffee Review and others.

Splashing in Sunlight

Like a goldfish, she swims
into my dream, her arms
paddling, her breath
gulping fresh air before
she is swallowed by space.

My husband and I question
her silent, smiling mother.
I accuse her of the unthinkable.
She says: I saw this house.
I left her there. I thought you knew.

I follow her down the road
to the white house.
Hope in my heart, I gaze
through glass and all I see 
is dust covered furniture.
.
I hear the little girl breathing,
singing, laughing, watch her
dancing among the dandelions,
splashing in sunlight 
until she swims out of sight.

Mothers of Lost Children

Whether they disappear 
at birth, childhood 
or adulthood,
yesterday 
or a century ago,
we still swim 
in a Sea of Sadness, 
seeing their reflection
in the water,
waving our arms 
as rescue boats float by. 
Once onshore, we return
to our lives, until memories
wash over us like waves
and the tide threatens to pull us
under and that’s when hope
steps in and saves us from sinking.

**Originally published in Autumn Sky Poetry Daily**