This was before two stints in rehab, before the shakes and jaundice, before I lied to my wife about loving her more than drinking. I remember thinking that night, unlocking my car in the Haggen parking lot: What are the odds? Running into her right as the doors slid open, our son holding her hand, yelling Hey it’s Daddy! I was supposed to be a year sober. Supposed to be at a meeting then over to Birch Door Cafe with a group of old-timers. I tried tucking the sixpack behind my leg but she saw and looked away, stepping past me into the store. Chances are she already knew, found a bottle under our bed or buried in my dresser. The wife who smells another woman on her man’s clothes and says nothing. But that’s not like her, I thought, driving home in the rain. She’s simply moving through the aisles filling a cart, checking all the things she needs off her list.
Brandon Lewis was born in Seattle and raised throughout the states of Washington and Montana. He received his BA in English from the University of Washington and his MFA from the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University. His first book of poems, The Mended Animal, was a finalist for the 2025 Richard Snyder Memorial Book Prize, as well as the 2025 Sally Albiso Award. His poems have appeared in numerous literary journals, including Chestnut Review, Nashville Review, Naugatuck River Review, Portland Review, and Superstition Review. He currently teaches high school English and lives with his wife and children in a small town not far from Olympia, Washington.
Visit Brandon’s page at MoonPathPress.com
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in memory of my son,
Késhava Kumara Sánchez 9-3-1987 to 7-9-2000
I could not
teach my son
how to be a man
he’ll always
be
a boy
standing by the water’s edge
smiling
in that photograph
I speak his name
I speak his name
in silence
Raúl Sánchez is a self-taught poet whose work reflects the immigrant experience as well as his own story. He volunteers as a bilingual mentor in middle schools, detention centers, housing for the homeless and disabled, as well as with immigrants and laborers. He leads community “Poetry in the Park” readings May–September in northeast Seattle. During COVID, he installed a “Poetry Box” in front of his home filled with single poems for the neighbors to put in their pockets as encouragement. He wrote the libretto for the Sinfonía “Moctezuma” monologue in response to Vivaldi’s Motezuma, original version for Orquesta Northwest. Some of his poems have become permanent public art in Seattle and Shoreline.
Visit Raúl's page at WorldEnoughWriters.com
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