‘Mountains with Fingerprint Stains’

Susan Reams enjoys gardening and creating visual poetry.

Clouds begin to thin. Globules of water cease as the sun peeks into our neighbor-less nook. Mom

is occupying the furthest side of the porch, puncturing, pulling, puncturing once more, and

pulling once more lavender threading through the terry cloth towel. Her eyes immerse in the

swaying of white lilies with the wind. I find the same solace in the sunroom from behind,

watching paper-like clouds float by the sky light above. Without thinking for three seconds, my

partially dry hands encounter the rough surface of a recently perfected canvas. Focus alongside

panic center on green finger-shaped dots in a location where there was no room for blending.

Before I could grab a washcloth to soak up the stain, Mom’s soft eyes connect with my disturbed

expression. She nods for my presence into her bubble of solitude. I sit in the opposing blue

cushioned chair, the cool air seeping through the fabric of my apron. She rests the unfinished

cross-stitched pattern in her lap, a bowl holding two and a half grapes, and peers over my work

with curiosity, unaware of the disappointment that will be shortly arriving. After one more

reminder of regret and brief stalling, I shove the canvas towards her: a painting of mountain tops

with two curved lines composed of green dots pressing against a darkening sky. I detach myself

from the chair, clear my desk of its painting supplies, and shut the door to another hopeful

creation I could not fulfill. The sun came around again to our neighbor-less nook. The first

painting in our home is displayed.

Jada Johnson is a recent graduate of Auburn University at Montgomery where she won the 2025 Outstanding Capstone Project for her poetry chapbook. She plans to publish this chapbook, cementing her unique abilities within their literary world. Her favorite hobbies include baking Trader Joe’s blueberry muffins and collecting Studio Ghibli journals.