Catherine Esther Cowie is a 2017 Callaloo Writing Workshop graduate. Her work has appeared in The Penn Review, Moko Magazine: Caribbean Arts and Letters and Forklift Ohio. Currently, she resides in Kenosha, Wisconsin.

Also by Catherine Esther Cowie: Backslider The Sea Tastes Better Than the Lake


Catherine Esther Cowie

As a consequence of my father following a voice in his head





we each lose an eye. Our feathers wither, litter the dark apartment floor with greens, reds and blues, we stuff into shoe boxes. We grow fur, silky black against the dirt white winter. Here, no one can understand our tongues’ song, we speak slower, afraid of being called what we are. Television teaches us how to sound Canadian, a canola field, ironed flat. Afraid to lose anything else, we weave our dreams together: our house overcrowded with sunlight, the sea cresting our nostrils and tongues. In summer, we visit a lake up north as blue as Pigeon Island beach, set our bodies afloat.




Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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