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Poem
root of a mountain

Elegy for Our Once Bear Bodies

by Shagufta Mulla

The cub of me still remembers my mother,

fierce and easily found. We swam—became the river—

our brown bodies holding hordes of slick salmon,

 

no existential human hunger

to fill, our mouths & days berry-songed,

dripping the river red.

 

In this life, my quiet calls got stuck between

coyote teeth, steered me straight off

 

my mirage-

filled path as they, a desert pack—a family—

 

yip & sing over someone soft, still squirming

in their jaws.

 

It’s not until I’m among many

bellies that I unfreeze, realize my body’s

de-rivering.

 

There is now no sweet song at dawn or dusk

that I know, so I listen to tiny yips

from mom-filled mouths, learn how to tear & rip

slick tendons from bone

I never thought a red apron

in someone’s reel would make me miss Mom

by Shagufta Mulla

but the retro ruffles dripping down

this woman’s chest stopped me somewhere in the ‘70s—

strawberry jam boiling on the stove,

my tiny fingertips reaching up—reaching

out—waiting for cooled-off redness.

I didn’t want to be domesticated,

didn’t want to learn how to cook for a man

whose hands made ends meet, but separated

our faces. I don’t own an apron but I have

two pear-green velvet pot holders from Mom

that came with the words, Remember me.

Sometimes, when I take spaghetti off the stove

I put the warm, pillowy fabric to my face

until it cools, then open my eyes

to dirty dishes in the sink. An accumulation

of unwashed cutlery and cups seems to be a grief

language. These puddles of spoons—lakes of plates—

fill and overflow with soapy water

over the course of days, far enough back

in time when my small damp hands are in Mom’s,

and she shows me how to wipe them dry.

​​​​​​BIO​

​

Shagufta Mulla’s poetry has been featured in Five Points, Harbor Review, Okay Donkey, and elsewhere, as well as in the speculative poetry anthology NOMBONO by Sundress Publications. She is a 2026 Merrill Family Charitable Foundation Fellow and the second-place poetry winner for the 2025 Tucson Festival of Books Literary Awards. Mulla is the art editor of Peatsmoke Journal and a veterinarian in Oregon’s Willamette Valley. Find her on Instagram: @s.mulla.dvm.

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