Dear Gladys by Amy Genova I’m sorry. Sorry mother named you Gladys. Sorry you were so beautiful. A Great White Pyrenees standing six feet on hind legs when largess of paws draped over my shoulders. Every day after school, you watched for me from my second story bedroom window. The stars of your eyes soaring in their field of snow. Black stratus of widow’s peak spanning a forehead, broad as a fleet. I am sorry for your pink tongue. That you had papers, but not litters of snowballs wagging round your feet. Mother fixed that. I am sorry stepfather adopted you. That we lived in a yard-starved townhouse. I loved to bury my hands in your galaxy of fur. Sorry, your big heart trembled when stepfather came home. Mother named you Gladys. After the divorce, they turned you over to a farm. I’m glad. But I’m sorry too. Amy Genova has been published in a number of journals: The Bad Shoe, 3Elements, R.E.A.L., Spr
Flying Island is the Online Literary Journal of the Indiana Writers Center, accepting submissions from Midwest residents and those with significant ties to the Midwest.