Dusted Galoshes

During the hours of the unknown  I lay wake on the chest of my mother not a thought in my head  It is a blue sky, the most crisp morning imagined  The sky has brought no warning only a signal of...

Cloudy Mirrors

cloudy mirrors are wiped down to erase two dry eyes sitting on a damp face dilating to the beat of my bass   warm hands move through the misty space wrapping around my torso and to...

Inkwell Spotlight: Maybe

Maybe God gave me purpose, maybe he caused this pain Am I wrong for being angry? everytime I move forward– something knocks me down again, life is a journey, no one said it would be...

Inkwell Spotlight: Emma’s Phone

The phone of Emma, where art thou? I had only seen thee once, or thrice, yet I cannot recall. It mustn't be far, nor can it be close, for it may well be a mere dream. I had heard of its locale last with the...

Travels on a Foreign Road

Miles down a gravel path I'm quietly counting the seconds Lounging one arm on the steering wheel Aiming for home, yet Nothing seems tangible On the...

Inkwell Spotlight: December

I stand at winter’s edge and plead for sun; New England days of wintry light conceal what warmth was present—now just slim to none. The clouds do swell and all the lakes congeal, cadet blue-sky that...

Anonymous

Her brief history Mistress of Herself Toward the company of others Her lovely bones Captivated by you In cold blood Troublemaker A death Of Fool...