postpartum unveiled a secret vault
hidden behind vines and tangles of uncertainty
and when it opened
a poet emerged.
she was uncertain at first
blinking blindly in the sunlight
but she was filled to the brim
and ready to pour out her soul
so that other mothers
feeling grief
feeling alone
feeling too much
but never enough
could trace their fingers
over the familiar words
and feel at home.

-kass mangione

Happy National Poetry Month!