like lavender and lemon drifting
through the air from the essential oil factory,
sunlight coming through the windows,
and my dog snoring in bed.
Like kolaches fresh out of the oven,
cookies on my doorstep, and
my husband playing the same song
on the guitar over and over,
until I imagine myself somewhere
in the Caribbean, before cruise ships
became Titanic and Titanic was just a movie.
When a titanic disaster wasn’t just an iceberg
or a cough away. It’s the little things like talking
on the phone with my mother and writing poetry about
old shipwrecks and new pandemics to pass the time
until words and pictures on screens become reality.
Kendra Nuttall is a writer and poet from Utah. She has a bachelor’s degree in English from Utah Valley University with an emphasis on creative writing. Her work has previously appeared in Spectrum Literary Journal, Capsule Stories, Chiron Review, and Maudlin House, among others. She currently lives in Utah, with her husband and dog.
Art by Jenn Zed.
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