Copies of the new issue shipped from the printer December 7 but have been delayed in the postal system. We apologize for the delay and thank you for your patience!

New England Review

  • Subscribe/Order
  • Back Issues
    • Vol. 41, No. 3 (2020)
    • Vol. 41, No. 2 (2020)
    • Black Lives Matter
    • Vol. 41, No.1 (2020)
    • Vol. 40, No. 4 (2019)
    • Vol. 40, No. 3 (2019)
    • Vol. 40, No. 2 (2019)
    • Vol. 40, No 1 (2019)
    • Vol. 39 (2018)
      • Vol. 39, No. 4 (2018)
      • Vol. 39, No. 3 (2018)
      • Vol. 39, No. 2 (2018)
      • Vol. 39, No. 1 (2018)
    • Vol. 38 (2017)
      • Vol. 38, No. 4 (2017)
      • Vol. 38, No. 3 (2017)
      • Vol.38, No. 2 (2017)
      • Vol. 38, No. 1 (2017)
    • Vol. 37 (2016)
      • Vol. 37, No. 4 (2016)
      • Vol. 37, No. 3 (2016)
      • Vol. 37, No. 2 (2016)
      • Vol. 37, No. 1 (2016)
    • Vol. 36 (2015)
      • Vol. 36, No. 4 (2015)
      • Vol. 36, No. 3 (2015)
      • Vol. 36, No. 2 (2015)
      • Vol. 36, No. 1 (2015)
    • Vol. 35 (2014-2015)
      • Vol. 35, No.1 (2014)
      • Vol. 35, No. 2 (2014)
      • Vol. 35, No. 3 (2014)
      • Vol. 35, No. 4 (2015)
    • Vol. 34 (2013-2014)
      • Vol. 34, No. 1 (2013)
      • Vol. 34, No. 2 (2013)
      • Vol. 34, Nos. 3-4 (2014)
    • Vol. 33 (2012-2013)
      • Vol. 33, No. 1 (2012)
      • Vol. 33, No. 2 (2012)
      • Vol. 33, No. 3 (2012)
      • Vol. 33, No. 4 (2013)
    • Vol. 32 (2011-2012)
      • Vol. 32, No. 1 (2011)
      • Vol. 32, No. 2 (2011)
      • Vol. 32, No. 3 (2011)
      • Vol. 32, No. 4 (2012)
    • Vol. 31 (2010)
      • Vol. 31, No. 1 (2010)
      • Vol. 31, No. 2 (2010)
      • Vol. 31, No. 3 (2010)
      • Vol. 31, No. 4 (2010-2011)
    • Vol. 30 (2009)
      • Vol. 30, No. 1 (2009)
      • Vol. 30, No. 2 (2009)
      • Vol. 30, No. 3 (2009)
      • Vol. 30, No. 4 (2009-2010)
    • Vol. 29 (2008)
      • Vol. 29, No. 1 (2008)
      • Vol. 29, No. 2 (2008)
      • Vol. 29, No. 3 (2008)
      • Vol. 29, No. 4 (2008)
    • Vol. 28 (2007)
      • Vol. 28, No. 1 (2007)
      • Vol. 28, No. 2 (2007)
      • Vol. 28, No. 3 (2007)
      • Vol. 28, No. 4 (2007)
    • Vol. 27 (2006)
      • Vol. 27, No. 1 (2006)
      • Vol. 27, No. 2 (2006)
      • Vol. 27, No. 3 (2006)
      • Vol. 27, No. 4 (2006)
    • Vol. 26 (2005)
      • Vol. 26, No. 1 (2005)
      • Vol. 26, No. 2 (2005)
      • Vol. 26, No. 3 (2005)
      • Vol. 26, No. 4 (2005)
    • Vol. 25 (2004)
      • Vol. 25, Nos. 1-2 (2004)
      • Vol. 25, No. 3 (2004)
      • Vol. 25, No. 4 (2004)
    • Vol. 24 (2003)
      • Vol. 24, No. 1 (2003)
      • Vol. 24, No. 2 (2003)
      • Vol. 24, No. 3 (2003)
      • Vol. 24, No. 4 (2004)
        • See all
  • About
    • Masthead
    • NER Award Winners
    • Press
    • Award for Emerging Writers
    • Readers and Interns
    • Contact
  • Audio
  • Events
  • Submit

Julie Marie Wade

Portrait of the Sister as Phantom Limb

How she was, at once, always in attendance & always lost,
answering to different names—Kelly, Alexis, Jennifer, Jane—
evoking strangely contradictory dispositions.

—                                                 ♦

We had trained her well; she became whoever we needed her
to be, the ballast for me & for my bloody knees, my
Allegory of the Hardy Weed.

—                                                 ♦

In families like ours, there were always two kids—
the way tables came equipped with pepper & salt,
the way coffee was served with sugar & cream.

—                                                 ♦

These children arrived, symmetrical accessories:
one for each parent’s lap & the bucket backseats
of the family sedan in the neighborhood caravan.

—                                                 ♦

I saw her then as someone lucky, she who had
colored over the blueprints of her birth, evading acne &
embarrassment & the decade’s pandemic of at-home Ogilvie perms.

—                                                 ♦

I mourned her also, missing witness to a crime, the chalk
outline of her fragile body-shadow crouching behind mine:
desperate accomplice in biding our mutual time.

—                                                 ♦

Sometimes still, the sight of disheveled cushions or a partial
glass of wine reminds me of this figure I never see but feel;
her prolific absence following me, from the orphaning of adolescence,

—                                                 ♦

through the galleries of acquiescence, to the Family Portrait,
where I stand alone with the strangers who raised me—their crucible,
their cornerstone: begrudging bearer of their weighty, singular world.

——                                               ♦♦♦

 

Get the issue online now!

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
Cover art by Ralph Lazar

Volume 41, Number 4

Subscribe

Writer’s Notebook

Writer’s Notebook—No Ruined Stone

Shara McCallum

Writer’s Notebook—No Ruined Stone

Answering such queries typically falls to novelists. But, being a poet, I felt compelled to ask poetry to respond.

ner via email

Stories, poems, essays, and web features delivered to your Inbox.

quarterly newsletter

Click here to sign up for quarterly updates.

categories

Navigation

  • Subscribe/Order
  • Back Issues
  • About
  • Events
  • Audio
  • NER Out Loud
  • Emerging Writers Award
  • Support NER
  • Advertising
  • The Podcast

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Categories

Copyright © 2021 · facebook · twitter