Author Archives: Jaclynn Loibl

I’m not one hundred percent sure who just drove past and honked. The small truck with two passengers was hauling a lawn mower on a trailer, moving too fast for me to catch a face. I’m at one of my new favorite spots: the eight-foot-wide (give or take) entrance at the top of the stairsContinue reading “Music Mayhem”

I will finish unpacking tomorrow. Repeat it with me: I will finish unpacking tomorrow.  Love, Jaclynn

Pushing myself to speak to the painter at the house in Spanish, I asked, “¿Qué color o tenir es esto?” Later, Evelyn asked, “Did you speak Spanish? Why?” I explained that I love putting puzzles together and challenging my brain to do new things. Like how the subjunctive tense in Spanish is a real brainContinue reading “Funky Fresh Circles”

Our water smells like rust, and the taste is like putting a bleeding thumb in your mouth. I’ve heard it’s high in iron, and from years of visiting my Grandma’s cabin in Eastern Washington, I remember the brownish-red stains the water left on the white shower, toilet, and sinks. Eventually, we’ll call DJ’s Pump ServiceContinue reading “Settling Sand”

Sam’s Club is the first stop on my agenda when my peepers pop open. Not the chickens I don’t have, but my actual eyes, of course. With an empty fridge humming along, it’s clear what needs to happen next: food! It’s been a whole month since I’ve cooked a meal. Scratch that—I did whip upContinue reading “The Mantle’s Mounted”

I keep my hands in the sand, spilling it out like the grains of an hourglass. I loved you—the one I created from a smoky figure of mist. Is it through this door that I’ll find the ghost of what remains? The unedited you, the one I fell over the edge, then sought and foughtContinue reading “We’ll Do It Again”

I fall in and out of your hold; your soft whispers hush my fears as I tremble within. You touch and sway in the hammock under a peach-faded sky. My voice is muted, veiled like a lover’s cry, echoing Juliet’s pain that lingers in the courtyard. Behind the vines, casting a shadowy glow, her silhouette—dove-likeContinue reading “Falling and Falling: A Poem”

The Hoya’s petals burst into a circular, baseball-shaped bloom with soft pastel blue, pink, and purple hues reminiscent of a spring day made for children, baskets in hand, their hair, and lapels adorned with white bows. In contrast, with its massive, crooked leaves and cane-like props, the prehistoric monstera evokes the resilience of the AmazonContinue reading “The Bloom and the Broken: A Poem”