In a deep chill of anger
you and I turn back to back
to stumble down diverging paths.
We plod through dogged days,
slipping and drifting into wintry gloom.
Huddled behind the frosted glass, I chip
at frozen rime to make a hole;
and in that dime of brighter light
I spy you on the other side,
scraping ice away, eye to eye.
Linda Knowlton Appel migrated across the country and found her home in Oregon where she is a member of Chrysalis, a critique group for emerging women writers. Life evolves, and, as she enjoys retirement, she hopes that her poetry will help her to recognize and consider the existential questions of life.
Erica Goss served as Poet Laureate of Los Gatos, California from 2013-2016. She is the…
Sarah Barton--Zhen Xian Bao 31. Rives BFK, chiyogami, paste paper, origami paper, inks. 10”x…
Dear Readers, I was almost waylaid by a corgi at the market this morning, nearly…
The Mood Turns The swifts have weaned their young and those the cat didn’t get…
Passing All Understanding We bargain for peace meeting our understanding, Unaware of the need to…
Stones Rise Skimming the edge of an esker, gravel crunched by boots, immature red polyps…