Interior Lighting by Angeline Schellenberg

Hospital rooms are bright for a reason:
through me, she entered one 
as a small Sol
flaring round and infrared,
glossed and quivering,
too radiant 
for the naked eye.  

When the doctor placed her 
face up on my harrowed belly,
her arms flew open—
like an inverted beetle,
a wind-washed daisy,
             like my own gaping 
ultraviolet awe. 


Copyright © Angeline Schellenberg. Originally published in Tell Them It Was Mozart (Brick Books, 2016).


Angeline Schellenberg’s collection Tell Them It Was Mozart (Brick Books, 2016) won the Lansdowne Prize for Poetry, the Eileen McTavish Sykes Award for Best First Book, and the John Hirsch Award for Most Promising Manitoba Writer, and was a finalist for the 2017 ReLit Award for poetry. Her poetry placed second (2016) and third (2014) in Prairie Fire’s contest, and was shortlisted for Arc Poetry Magazine’s 2015 Poem of the Year. Her poems have also appeared in journals including TNQ, Grain, and Lemon Hound and the 2015 Alfred Gustav Press chapbook Roads of Stone. She lives in Winnipeg (Treaty One Territory) with her husband, their two teenagers, and a German shepherd-corgi. Find Angeline on Twitter at @poetic_Angeline.

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