This rain pounds the arch hall with a glass roof, vexations of puddles over and above the axles, no time to witness how slowly the tulip emerges in curled lips like cups. Chills of wet hair.Read more "For the Young Who Are Afraid"
Personify Me The trees speak in Shakespearean sonnets; The tulips write short memoirs. The honeysuckles smell of metaphors and similes, Vines are smirking complex sentences. The sun has these exotic eyes— The moon tells of faraway lands; The ocean never leaves you… Grass has flushed secrets. This earth keeps you stirring coffee. The seeds have […]Read more "Personify Me"
Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in Plainsongs, The Long Islander, and The Nashwaak Review. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press), In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I’m in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien […]Read more "A Great Beast, Waking and Stretching"
One at a time, I diligently pulled the push pins out of the sides of my cubicle walls. I was revered in this office for the colors and personality that my tiny space contained. Photos of my family and friends, doodles and drawings, flowers perpetually perched on my desk. Figurines, model cars, books, lamp light […]Read more "Human Resources"