Category: Poetry

Bird Calls by Connie Woodring

Tweet-atweet-atweet

chirpchew, tweettweettweet, chirp, twittertoo

sqeeeez, twittwit, cheep, atweet

chirp, aacoocoocoo, hoothoothoot, chirpchirpcheeou,

scraaaaaaaaacawcaw

Seeds, seeds, seeds

Cat, danger, cat, cat, fly away

Worms, bugs, eat, do like me

Uninvited Onions by Hermione Cameron

I am embarrassed by my dissection of the sandwich. My fingers pick away at it, clumsily pulling apart the various parts, like some inexpert surgeon. 

Why did they have to put onions in it? Is nothing sacred? 


Outside the window someone who looks a bit like someone I know walks by. 

I continue my open-heart sandwich surgery, easing open the bread skeleton, pulling apart the strands of cheesy yellow flesh, prodding around the tomato red blood cells. 

The Sharp Edge of Spring, a love letter to Hades by Lauren Theresa

Sitting in my room
incense burning in the living space.
Unsettled here, on the edge of Spring. 
Today marks Oestara, the Vernal Equinox where I reside. 
It’s 9:22pm; already one foot deeper into Spring than the Winter 
And I’m having a very difficult time stepping out of my Dark Beautiful Season.

This Winter has been long and deep.
Entering it with a distracted head, focusing on the holidays and festivities—
the novelty of the seasons. 
When January edged on and February came,
I was truly finding my Self in the Depths of Darkness. 
Consumed by the cold Void as the days were mostly consumed by the Moonlit eve. 
Although I first met this with resistance, I’ve grown comfortable here. 
Not complacent or at ease, but profoundly at Home 
in this fiery Underworld.

The Public Library Love Letter by Rebecca Stonehill

1

Age seven or eight, I receive my first public library card of
hard, green plastic with black letters emblazoned across it and
I look at no other words apart from these precious two:
Book Token.

I wobble up and down the streets between my house
and the mobile library, perched like a mirage
between roaring cars and the curly slide I stand atop for hours,
unsure if I am brave enough to hurl myself down.

To Elude Wolves, Run into the Sun by Ashley Van Elswyk

Wolves hunt for the moon-touched lovers,
dazzled by the dark, with stars in their eyes
that mask the gleam of hungry teeth, and claws
trailing closer,
                                                closer.
Wolves encircle bright young bodies
dizzied in orbit, their newly burst hearts
left open; nebulous scent drifting 
into a vast
                      (and greedy)
night.