by Jennifer Rodrigues
Cage Free
I hid my heart like a cascarón
green heart in the dandelions and clover
pink heart beside the bougainvillea bush
yellow heart tucked under a hibiscus
no, nestled next to a birdhouse
okay, fine, suspended mid-sky where I
couldn’t look at it without blinding
I hid my heart so well
it took all my youth to find it again
Once, my very Baptist best
friend’s mom gave us empty eggs
instead of sinful chocolate
she said, it’s like the tomb and resurrection
the gift of Jesus not being there
and being there When
I finally found my heart
I expected it to be empty as a
marriage
hollow bones and a whisper of
craw and caw, failed fledgling
whose downy feathers flicker when
a screen door slams
but it wasn’t empty, just cracked open
by me at last
the wind
lifting confetti from eggshells
Liz Parker Garcia’s poetry and creative nonfiction have found homes in SAGE Magazine, Exit 7, The Missouri Review’s Miller Audcast, The Lindenwood Review, and elsewhere. After serving as Artist in Residence at the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, Liz moved to East Tennessee where she can be found hiking mossy trails, refilling bird feeders, and sniffing honeysuckle.
Jennifer Rodrigues currently lives on the sacred Powhatan land of Fairfax, VA. She is trained as a certified yoga therapist & trauma informed yoga teacher, is a queer military spouse, mom, & neurodivergent superhuman. She has been featured in many lovely literary journals & anthologies, & has been nominated for Best of the Net with her photography. Find her on Insta @gmoneyfunklove.