‘How old is Maggie?’

the energy healer asks over speakerphone.  
at her name “She’s old. We don’t know the  
number …” a stiff stretch “... but she’s been  
through it.” she slips off the bed “I just saw— 
they took her babies.” curls up facing away 
on the floor “Ah, that makes sense.” Her  
frenzy when the mailman stomps across  
the lawn, howling and hurling herself teeth-
first at the windows. “When you see inside  
someone’s …” “Energy.” “... are you ever  
shocked by how horrible it is?” “How do I 
put this? Always.”

Credit

Copyright © 2025 by Jennifer L. Knox. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on March 12, 2025, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem

“Maggie trusted no one, so I wasn’t surprised when a disembodied voice saying her name drove her off the bed and onto the cold tile floor. I never believed people who said they felt the same white-hot shame as I did until Alexa told me this about energy fields.  Subconsciously, I had hoped the knowledge would connect me more to other people and I’d feel more human. It didn’t. But I do feel surprisingly connected to that dog.” 
—Jennifer L. Knox