Nicole Rollender

Change Me, O Ghost

My God, why does the bruised flower inside me cry Open? Shape-shifter birds, my daughter called skyward: flock of Holy Ghosts, can I fly with you? She’s my compass toward paradise. My human will, the only door for evil spirits to enter. Holy the purity of animals in forests and pastures, breath hymning outside my […]

Nicole Rollender

Mater Dolorosa

Again, the plague season returns. Again, horses live, and they die. Locusts descend, devour, disperse. All ashes. I watch you in the fields, drifting in and out of hinterland mists. A brindle foal learns to stand. Three times during my second pregnancy, we thought we lost our son—once in Gettysburg’s bee-buzzed peach orchard. How does […]