And Here We Are

Laura Iodice

And here you are, such a fine woman.

So far traveled from the little girl

Who sang to the moon

through her bedroom window.

Ariel, afloat at sea.


And here I am, wise too late,

Watching you make your way

From moon to sea, to distant shore,

The tides behind you.

Gaia, your feet solidly rooted in soil.


And there you go, a streak of mercury,

A flash of light.  Sure-footed,

You soar across the jet-black sky,


Toward who knows where?


And here I am on steady ground now,

Secure that you will safely land,

No matter the map that guides you,

No matter the sting of rain against your face

As you move so swiftly passed my door.

Laura Iodice, a Bronx native, has resided with her husband in Syracuse, N.Y. for the past forty years. She is a veteran secondary and post-secondary educator, has taught classes in literature, composition, rhetoric and cultural constructions of race and has published professionally about these subjects. Her creative non-fiction is featured in the literary journals Conclave Magazine, The Write Launch, Litro, Metafore Magazine, Crack the Spine and Vending Machine Press. Teaching is her vocation; writing is her life.