Poetry by Nicole Hirt
a steaming cup
rests in my mother’s hands
water and cacao mixed
into a comfortingly bitter brew
while rain thuds on Philippine palms
water knocking at the door
twenty years later
her feet have found American soil,
and her hands now rest on mine
helping me crush saltines
to plop in the cocoa
now
I am alone in my apartment
raindrops slamming on the windows
a cup of sikwate
warming my hands
I have exchanged water for milk
and added a spoonful of sugar
but the crackers are getting soggy
so I take a sip and a bite
Nicole Hirt is a freelance writer based in South Florida. She is an editor at Living Waters Review, where several of her poems and prose have appeared in past issues. In her free time, she enjoys wandering through cemeteries, much to the confusion of the general public.
