We never taught him how to move
to music. It was something he picked up
on his own like the small items people
pick up while walking and find
worthy enough to place in their pockets.
Pockets are a funny thing. Some are loose
enough to fit oversized wallets and phones
while others press items so close to your skin,
that they hold onto your warmth when removed.
He was that way. Before birth and now in his bed.
When I separate his skin from mine, I can still
feel the warmth of him after I close the door.
By Julie Ramon
Julie Ramon is an English instructor, specializing in English as a second language, at Pittsburg State University in Kansas. She also teaches academic writing at Crowder College in Missouri. She graduated with an M.F.A from Spalding University in Louisville, Kentucky. Along with writing, her interests include baking, sewing, traveling and garage sales.
Family is a recurring theme throughout Julie’s writing as is her heritage, love (her husband), and the adventures associated with motherhood. Food is also a common theme, and she’s often thought of opening a bakery.
William Stafford is Julie’s favorite poet. Although his themes are quite different, she hopes to one day gain the same sense of honesty and voice Stafford offers: “A writer is not so much someone who has something to say as he is someone who has found a process that will bring about new things…” Her email address: