By Lara Niedermeyer
Welcome to the delayed November 2025 issue of Segullah. Thank you for your patience. My mother died 8 weeks ago yesterday. The days leading up to her passing were filled with hospice appointments, furniture rearrangements, medication management, visiting family, and celebrating Christmas one last time (six weeks early) for my mom who loved everything about …
By Tricia Cope
you and I had faithin dreams and echoesof dreams. Earnest suits,macaroni, used cars.Now I know you too well and not at all. Middle age,lustful of meaning, intolerantof levity, rewrites our storiesabout what is real. We wake up restless under tangled sheets.A lark sings. Curtains flutterin slanted sunlight and things transform,luminescent: the future, yourface. Life, which …
By Sharlee Mullins Glenn
zipped into your fuzzy Care Bear suit(the only item on your Santa’s list that year)or caped in handmade Batman gloryyou wore hero like a second skin—my nimble boy, all sinew and spark,striking ninja poseshands slicing through the shadowsof your imagined battles I played the sidekick,you the conquering lead,bravado masking the trembling coreof your tender heart …
By Sierra Wilson
Our ancestors a hundred years or so ago might havegrown faint at the sight of us –a bobbing soup of human fleshwith just a few bits of nylon and netting to go around But there’s something sweet,natal even, to this near-naked amalgam of strangerswith pimples and moles,curves and bones,rocking and swaying as one with the …
By Anya Horman
If God is spinning the solar system,like a top on His finger, if He times past, present, futureto one eternal round, time is no calamity to Him.He’s driving this car and He’ll pull over right now, if He needs to. Timeis His deep languorous bath. Time is a friend who will never disown us. Timeis …
By Lara Niedermeyer
Editorial Welcome to the August 2025 issue of Segullah. Within its pages you’ll find reviews of two new books of poetry by our Poetry Board member Lorren Lemmons, first by former Segullah staff member Sharlee Mullins Glenn, and the second by a poet we’ve been pleased to publish more than once in the past, Marilyn …
By Anya Horman
For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed; but my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord that hath mercy on thee. –Isaiah 54:10 God could uproot you: sky island mountains,But peace and mercy He will not discard.This certainty flows from your …
By Anya Horman
“If the sisters should have faith to heal the sick, let all hold their tongues, and let everything roll on.” –Joseph Smith, Discourse, [Nauvoo, Hancock Co., IL, 28 Apr. 1842]. Women who knew–not their own power, but God’s,a gift given, spirit to spirit.Power over flesh to balm and binda community of sisters. Women who washed–for …
By Christie Axson Gardiner
A tropical storm in the Everglades,alone on a boat, we are baptizedby immersion from the sky: a remissionof our sins. Into Buttonwood Canalthe boat carries its unlikely pilgrims.With a sound no louder than the slip fromlife to death, a crocodile breaks the water’sskin then glides parallel, portside.I am not afraid. I see her now,this scale-haloed, …
By Christie Axson Gardiner
Divine silence is a specific pain,both “familiar and impossible.” Cheek to cheek, my newborn baby son. Remember how merciful, is God.Remember my own samadhi. Velvety aspen bark against my hand. Remember too, Jesus didn’t cometo save me from the Romans. Carpet-burned knees from praying. He is the God who weeps, divineeruptions upon every mundane day. …