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An Unexpected Friend
An Unexpected Friend
Nicole Sanders, MA
The Warming Woman
The Warming Woman
Luka Perez, Dover, FL
Lauren Lee, Northampton, MA (digital art)
Elizabeth Teodorescu, Dover, FL (poetry)
Flowing Inspiration
Flowing Inspiration
Nicole Sanders, MA
The Sun Will Swallow Us Whole
Tapioca seeds and manatees,
the wind blows strong beneath the sea
and every strand of seaweed brings
a cupped hand of desert sand.
On the shore lies a painter’s hook
resting on a fisher’s brush,
and beneath them the tide swings.
Parakeets and kerosene
float in ashes on the breeze,
and fall like burning snow to sand
that traces patterns of swarming ants.
Wood comes in honeyed scent
that combs itself into your hair,
and every tree has long been spent,
their ghosts of dust pulled into air.
In your palms is a future still,
through tired eyes and waves of sleep,
washing white water and windmills.
The foam has memories to keep,
of kerosene and manatees.
ET, Dover, FL
Concrete Hallways
Concrete Hallways
It never really changes, some days,
it’s steady, a flat never-ending plain,
there’s comfort, maybe, in its consistency,
the peace that lives in silence of pain,
it won’t go, some weeks,
it piles up and keeps and keeps,
on living,
when it really should have died so long ago,
either it leaves or you go,
but you’re locked, stalemate,
you won’t back down and neither will it,
two strangers, barely human,
more human than anything else in the world,
trapped in a suffocating space.
Here there is no night and there is no day,
only a soft, slight haze,
a rising or setting of a sun that doesn’t exist,
a world stopped as time pools on in another life, slow and thick,
(and yet it ticks),
ticks faster than thought, even when thought blurs into nonexistence,
ticks faster than feeling as it thins as watercolor on paper,
ticks faster than the time itself that slowly, slips,
ticks faster than the shreds of words that fall down in, bits,
ticks and flows, and gathers,
in dreams late at night,
and lives forever,
on the never ending plain of dimmed light.
ET, Dover, FL
(originally published in Cholla Needles 93)
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