Today in a flutter of leaves a sharp-shinned hawk balanced with one leg tucked under his freckle-feathered chest on a fence post at the edge of our garden. To get a closer look I crawled through the living room and onto the porch crept to the ledge and quietly lifted my head. The hawk turned razor eyes toward mine with a gaze that sliced open wonder and startled that other wild bird flapping against the fenced cage of my chest.
Jill holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Pacific Lutheran University and a Ph.D. in English from the University of Nebraska—Lincoln. Honors include support from the National Endowment for the Humanities, Artist Trust, and Hedgebrook, among others. Jill is editor-in- chief of Wandering Aengus Press. Other publications include the poetry collections Revolutions We’d Hoped We’d Outgrown (Finishing Line, 2017), shortlisted for the Clara Johnson Award for Women’s Literature, and Diary of the One Swelling Sea (MoonPath, 2013), winner of the Nautilus Silver Award in Poetry. Jill McCabe Johnson lives and writes in the San Juan Islands and can often be found wandering beaches and trails, learning what she can from her close observations of nature. Visit Jill online at https://jillmccabejohnson.com/index.html
Visit Jill's page at Moonpathpress.com
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a sonnet
Can we agree, doctor, that even an illness
with no discernable etiology is no one’s fault?
I’m not sick because of my sheer willfulness
and victim-blaming by the healthy is an assault.
Chronic fatigue and pain are not symptoms
of the morally/mentally weak. I’ll process past
trauma, family grief, socio-political conditions
and by the light of the moon hydrate and cast
spells, set limits, take anxiety meds, walk
and move and breathe, become my own lover
but when it comes to blaming myself I baulk—
my self isn’t a virus from which I must recover.
Joy is my true nature but this illness cuts to the quick.
Self-care is all to the good, yes, but I am still sick.
As an adjunct professor, Sarah developed and taught courses on spirituality, poetry, and literature at the University of San Francisco. Her poems have been published or are forthcoming in Poetry Northwest, Whale Road Review, Sidhe Press, Blue Mountain Review, About Place Journal, Glass Poetry, The Shallow Ends, Rise Up Review, Crab Creek Review, Gone Lawn, SWWIM.org, Psaltery & Lyre and EcoTheo Review, among others. She’s the author of the chapbooks Time’s Apprentice (dancing girl press, 2021) and Castaway (Glass Lyre Press, 2022). Sarah’s work has been nominated several times for the Pushcart Prize and the Best of the Net anthology. Sarah is also the Founder/Editor-in-Chief of River Mouth Review, an online poetry review which has published new and established poets alike. The Scarecrow of My Former Self is her first full- length collection. Sarah and her beloved husband live on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, by the Salish Sea. Visit Sarah online at https://www.sarahstockton.com/
Visit Sarah's page at MoonPathPress.com
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