Poetry Posts

February In New England

by Thomas Griffin The fog will not leaveno sun ascendsmist makes the worlda road and the treesweep all day 

read more...

Ancient Garden

by Rachel M. Patterson The ancient garden looks dead tonight, Darkness feeds it with her poison, It hums with ossified future light, A light the now appears frozen. . The promise of a flame in the morning, Hypnotizes the wandering mind, A ghosted tree heeds it’s warning, The gruesome remains…

read more...

Prodigal

by Amy Covel My armor conceals A fractured heart  Held together  By nothing more  Than a hope That home Is still waiting For its child To return A warrior.

read more...

Crossing Over and Staying

by Kristal Peace Weaker than I cannot be She waits  For me . To produce The pearls that  Will save her  Life, to silence The guns and stay The knife that . Ever approaches her Dawning cheek I reach, I try But I am weak. . And she cannot know…

read more...

To an Absent Daughter; There’s a Lot of Anger Here.

by Sheree La Puma To my estranged daughter in wake of the recent tragedies in California New Moon in Scorpio. 12 people shot. Dead, College Night, Wednesday. Malibu burning. Ash like a blanket. Black, my mood. Everyone, for themselves. You come at me like a stranger, or don’t come at…

read more...

Soul Storm

by Caitlin Eha I am the storm Inside, I cannot Be still—the wind Fights, tears at me Battering, blinding The rain falls, flies In my face, like Bullets, biting. The lightning courses Through me—power Rising up, striking out Electricity—is it Hurting, or healing Clouds covering, their Darkness smothering Light, dark—lightning,…

read more...

What My Parents Meant

by Amy Covel When my parents told me Being an adult would be hard I thought they meant The stress of paying bills on time Or caring for a husband and three kids Or working forty hours a week. I didn’t know being an adult meant Having fallingouts for telling…

read more...

A Pattern

by Twixt A pattern is argyled on the surface of the highland stream, on the trouts’ flank-flash, on the pebbled, fundamental bottom. In its back-drift wake picture-perfects snake.

read more...

Golden Years

by Amy Brian You walk slowly As we go down the road.  Mist flicks our cheeks, One thousand tears in the air.  Your boots drag against the gravel,  Punctuating each step we take.  Pebbles scamper, making blissful declarations:  Pop, pop, pop.  The wind gives us his hello;  Its rhythm can…

read more...

And the Wind Blows

by Twixt And the wind blows, and reblows what was blown, and well-felt featly dealt rains are arraigned,  a blank bank of souffled clouds appears drained, perky percolations gradually pool.

read more...