Between Dessert and The Late Show
written by: Emalisa Rose
We’d speak every Sunday. Some
times, we’d modify; perhaps on
a Monday or Tuesday.
I’d sent you those cookies you
loved, once a month but I went
back to work, and tire too easily.
We’d talk, then we’d email, then
downgrade to texting; first, in full
sentences, then in just dribbles
between dessert and the late show.
It starts with a tweak, or an edit, a
slight shift from one day to the next.
Before it’s extinct, we need to start
over and get back to our mother and
son, Sunday call.
When not writing poetry, Emalisa Rose enjoys crafting with macrame and drawing with charcoals. She walks with a birding group on weekends. She volunteers in animal rescue, processing cat/dog adoptions at a local shelter. Her latest work is "Ten random wrens," pubished by Maverick Duck Press.
Latest posts by Emalisa Rose (see all)
- To Mother Me - May 12, 2025
- Before, a Boy - February 2, 2025
- Just in Case - September 18, 2024
