Issue 1
Signs and Wonders

Signs and Wonders

Days after my mother dies, the cable box turns on, flashing channel and times
I take as sign: 2:37 becomes 57, my age; channel 7, number of completion
according to Bible; 11, balance and teamwork.

Orange digits in wee hours unnerve my husband and me.

I speak to my shaman girlfriend, who says things can be done
to help people on their way. Next night, a transformer’s pop! 
Neighbors’ audible Uh-oh as lamps and screens fade.

Flames smoke the yard across the street; buried wires ignite.

From my window bench, I watch firemen in yellow and black
whose flashlights catch my face behind blinds.
Like Moses I ask, How can this be?

Could her rage take down a block?

She broke the ceramic plant basket the funeral home returned;
as my car turned, it tipped and cracked. Most of my life I tried to get
away from her and now, indignant, I tell my friend,

My mother is gone; no message or dream.

Even Dad, uninvited, invades unconscious hours.
Sleepless, I ask, Where are you? That night,
the box glows again, the number 2.

Ann Cefola

Ann Cefola

Ann Cefola is the author of Face Painting in the Dark (Dos Madres Press, 2014); St. Agnes, Pink-Slipped (Kattywompus Press, 2011), Sugaring (Dancing Girl Press, 2007), and the translation Hence this cradle (Seismicity Editions, 2007). For more information, see and