i know the darkest roots. below where trees pull water, suck nourishment.
where i screamed, no one heard. i loudly spoke my dissatisfactions, fear
spoke back with the voice of the entire forest, like a greek chorus, mocking
me. do i not live like the rest of you? this beautifully ravaged body, made that
way by the dance and then the birth of boy children, i am watching lithe
women have their turn now, with life, with love. everything in me lusts after
what is gone from the light and thrives in the shadows, mercilessly galloping
with life of its own, barren and radiant. i am torn, like a flag in the wind.
shredded, by this early somnolence of spirit. i was not ready for this, not
shall i ever be, i am too much. i hiss with the snakes, unsettled, poisoning
my self, in readiness for the next strike. i crave more knowledge, more of
that intangible entanglement that is burning in me, like a slow fire,
threatening to eradicate everything that keeps me breathing. and my rattling
brings no one. i am terrified by my own depths, the twisted root system that
feeds my branches. 

Art by Greg Spalenka

Melody Sokolow is a passionate, autistic writer, originally from Los Angeles, living in the Pacific Northwest.  A mother of two-grown sons living their own dreams, she draws on her experiences as a woman, a mother, and lover of the natural world, using color and images to convey the feelings in her work.  She has several works published in “HelensLitMag,” Fall 2019 as well as “Deracine”, Winter 2019, and is currently putting together pieces for a possible collection.