Philly Poetry Chapbook Review is pleased to present three original poems by Mary Whitlow as our fourth biweekly featured poet of the Winter 2026 issue.
Poems
Green Ink
The key of cool, dull brass
heavy in my palm—its chill
like a debt to be paid.
The mailbox hums with a
hive of notices—breath
stale from unopened days.
Once—you wrote in green
ink bright as seagrass, the color
of belief, still unfading.
I unlock the box again—a click
that groans, hoping for an envelope
with green greeting me in bold.
Laundered Linen
Laundered linen breathes
like air reborn—as though
the sky itself were freshly
washed, still warm,
like a fireside chair.
Woven arms invite me
to lie unguarded—softly,
where my cares dissolve
like sugar cubes melting
in a slow steeped tea—
disappearing one by one.
Wrapped in stillness, my
heart slows—drifting toward
gentler days, folded like
memories, waiting to unfold
with linen’s quiet grace.
Examined
I taste metal, fear, on antiseptic
breath—machine-light bleaches every
memory. The paper crinkles beneath
my spine, a small white tremor
as the door clicks shut.
His gaze is measured, practiced
calm—discipline in a white coat.
He speaks in numbers, cuts in tone,
swamped by endless reports, and I
become a charted line, a pulse
that flattens when addressed.
Years on, I can still hear his light
knock—then that heavy tread, fatigue
in every step. I wish him quiet,
an easier way, a softer light.
About “Examined”
‘Examined’ came from a tough decision to change doctors. I was fed up with my previous doctor rushing me through appointments, barking orders, and barely listening as I poured out my concerns. I later learned that he is a good doctor just burned out from the pressure. With that new information I began to soften toward him and decided to write this as path toward therapeutic, amicable closure.
The poem captures us both there in the dreaded check up appointment: me clenching crinkling paper, scared of what the lab reports say; him walking in expressionless, lab reports in hand like some mysterious document, and meting out instructions about hydration and diet.
I had just looked at him as a harried doctor, not a human being doing the best he could under difficult job pressures. Now, if I run into him, instead of ducking the interaction, I can smile and ask how he’s doing.
Author Bio
Mary Whitlow, based in Williamsburg, VA, crafts lyrics from quiet rituals—mailboxes, exam rooms, laundered linen. A former radio commercial writer and newsletter editor, she balances writing with nature walks and fostering animals for the Heritage Humane Society. Her poems have been featured in, or are forthcoming from, Mid-Atlantic Review and Virginia Writers Project.
Contents
“Managing [my husband’s] pain became fraught in the last week of his life when he could no longer swallow the medications that had kept him comfortable…The poem explores the vulnerability and intimacy found in such a crisis.” Read five poems by Amy Riddell, our first biweekly poet of the Winter 2026 issue, along with a few words about “Reading the Body.”
Chapbook Poem: Aphasia by Robert Allen
“Ultimately this is a poem of love and recognition, of finding the right words for the right listener, to the one who listens and understands.” Read the featured Chapbook Poem of the Month for January 2026, “Aphasia,” along with a few words from the poet.
Book Excerpt: The Egg of Anything by Paula Bohince
“The poem is filled with moments of ‘O’ sounds and ‘Ah’ sounds, mimicking the O of the egg and the Ah of the open jaw. I like that the poem is compact in its little form, also a bit egg-like.” Read the featured Excerpt Poem of the Month for January 2026, “The Egg of Anything” from A Violence by Paula Bohince, along with a few words from the poet.
Three Poems by Abraham Aondoana
“Instead of providing any solution to the issue, the poem is ready to be open to the ambiguity that can enable doubt, tenderness, and resilience to co-exist. By so doing, it points to survival not as victory, but as endurance…” Read three poems by Abraham Aondoana, our second biweekly poet of the Winter 2026 issue, along with a few words about “Surviving a Country That is Also a Question.”
Five Poems by Colleen S. Harris
“I am always struck by the juxtaposition of the biology and science of illness versus the life of the person living with it, and how those two spheres constantly interrupt and flow into each other.” Read five poems by Colleen S. Harris, our third biweekly poet of the Winter 2026 issue, along with a few words about “Inflammation As Girl.”
Chapbook Poem: Offering by Richard Jordan
“In my mind, the narrator recognizes that Harper’s fate could very well have been his own, and I hope that readers can relate, in the sense that we all have done reckless things, especially in our youth…” Read the featured Chapbook Poem of the Month for February 2026, “Offering,” along with a few words from the poet.
Book Excerpt: Passage by Paul Hostovsky
“When she’d call me on the weekends, I was high half the time, impatient with her, and unforthcoming. It’s one of my greatest regrets. The tears well up just thinking about it. I didn’t grieve her properly. I’m grieving her now.” Read the featured Excerpt Poem of the Month for February 2026, “Passage” from Perfect Disappearances by Paul Hostovsky, along with a few words from the poet.
“The poem captures us both there in the dreaded check up appointment: me clenching crinkling paper, scared of what the lab reports say; him…lab reports in hand like some mysterious document…” Read three poems by Mary Whitlow, our fourth biweekly poet of the Winter 2026 issue, along with a few words about “Examined.”
February ’26: Section Editors & Staff Wanted
Editor Aiden Hunt begins year three with a call for applications for section editors and other editorial and production staff in this editor’s note.
“I am most comfortable in a chair with a pen looking at nature through a window. And yet nature is something my mind is also totally immersed in…So I think it’s a bit of a paradox.” Poet Lisa Low discusses her latest chapbook in this interview with Contributor Saudamini Siegrist.
“My work has always found a focus in the bodies of women, and watching the mix of strength and fragility in women as they face illness and pain has been a topic that I keep coming back to.” Read four poems by Betty Stanton, our fifth biweekly poet of the Winter 2026 issue, along with a few words about “Vein Song.”
Chapbook Poem: Found in the African Art Collection… by Rohanna Ssanyu
“It is laborious to hold on to a culture removed, one for which I am a perpetual novice. I do, however, try, and I bring my children with me. … Can this space, this culture, only be ours if cut up and reimagined?” Read the featured Chapbook Poem of the Month for March 2026, “Found in the African Art Collection of a New Haven Gallery After the Guard Asks Whether My Son Knows the Rules,” along with a few words from the poet.
Book Excerpt: Targeted by Frances Klein
“The poem focuses specifically on the way that online algorithms ‘read’ a person’s internet history related to pregnancy or trying to conceive, then deliver the most painful possible ads…” Read the featured Excerpt Poem of the Month for March 2026, “Targeted” from Another Life by Frances Klein, along with a few words from the poet.