After pouring Cindy a cup of fresh-brewed French Roast and plating Jeni a pastry from under the glass dome on your counter, the three of you trade tales about the husband who had an affair; the neighbor’s son going off to college; the boy across the street who hasn’t been the same since coming home; and how none of you can believe that woman was elected to the school board. Between the “Did you hear how much that house sold for?” and the “I always knew he was nothing but trouble,” your finger slowly traces the handle on your cup. Cupping your palms around hand-painted irises, you remember the day your old neighbor, Pam, gifted you this mug, how she told you she has a matching one at home. Later, you plan a trip to visit Pam on her birthday.
iris bouquets
wilting under July’s sun
purple shadowed grave
is the author of What She Was Wearing (The Poetry Box, 2019). Her manuscript Pockets was a finalist in the Concrete Wolf Chapbook Contest (2024) and is forthcoming from MoonPath Press in late 2025. Her poetry has appeared in literary venues worldwide, including About Place Journal, Amsterdam Quarterly, CALYX, ONE ART, Quartet Journal, Sheila-Na-Gig, Snapdragon Journal, The Timberline Review, and many others. Shawn is a two-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. A proud mom and Nana, she shares the creative life with her husband in Oregon.
