Women who ring
around the rosie, pocket full of posies. We ashes. We fall down. We call. We shoot the shit. We gab, we idle. We encircle fourth finger in promises, show pale underneath when they break. We leave a film of suds around the tub after a scalding bath. We spirograph dizzy, we dervish, we core. Look, we are one ancient tree. We spin years. We loop. We prehistoric. We crop circle. We rock and ice around Saturn. We enigma. Don’t try to understand our circus. We are masters of the show. We tame lions, walk tightropes. We box, we spar. We win. We knit. We chemistry. We chain. We benzene ring. We make you forget. We toxic, we poison, we steal, we shake. We protect. We contain. We lead. We do-min-ate. We outwit. We peal. We sing sing sing sing sing
Published October 31, 2025
Cathy Ferrell
Cathy Socarras Ferrell is a poet, writer, and educator from Central Florida. The granddaughter of Cuban immigrants, she finds inspiration in family story-telling, walking (anywhere), and the Sandhill cranes in her yard. Her work can be found at The Orchards Poetry Journal, Santa Clara Review, Compulsive Reader, and other literary journals. She is an alumna of the Tupelo Press 30/30 Project, and is an Associate Editor for table//FEAST Literary Magazine. Cathy has served the community as a public school educator since 2006. She has taught in Early Childhood classrooms, supported secondary students with reading challenges, and mentored beginning teachers. She currently serves as an education consultant and high school literacy coach. Readers can connect with Cathy at ferrellwords.com.