Prophecy, by Elinor Wylie

I think I’m going to start a new tradition where I post one of my favorite poems every Monday. To start off, here’s one by Elinor Wylie which has stuck with me ever since I first read it years ago. Prophecy I shall lie hidden in a hut In the middle of an alder wood,…

Throwback Thursday #17

I haven’t done a Throwback Thursday post in a while… Here’s a poem I wrote in the fall of 2013, in the style of Emily Dickinson. *** I much prefer my dish of death Straightforward on the plate— Overt and undisguised, for here No masquerades are played—   I much prefer it clear and cold,…

My Harvest

Written for Word Prompt Wednesday.   I am harvesting the seeds sown as a child From thumbholes in the bare earth, each miniscule body Buried in them, and abandoned.   Not neglected, though. My thoughts coaxed them Leaf-curling and persistent, from crevices Not sealed after all.   But last night—in the turned-away gaze of the…

Quadrille

Written for Quadrille Monday. Violet fire is burning ‘Neath a periwinkle sky The purple planets’ turning Spins my consciousness awry— Every tendon, every figment Flushes mauve—the body burns, Crumbles in the deathly pigment, River-ruined, being spurned, Out of purple heaven hurled In the ashes of the world.   ~H