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Short Poems Feature I
Making Pierogi for My Mother
A parcel of time
the dough thinning
to not quite conceal
what it contains.
Onions and potatoes
root my floured fingers
to the earth. We consume
the ground we stand on.
Sylvie Jane Lewis writes fiction and poetry, and recently graduated with an English MPhil from Cambridge. Her work has placed in competitions (winner 2023 CUPPS Prize, runner-up 2023 Sykes Prize) and appeared in various publications. Poetry of hers features in Smashed Peaches (2023), an anthology of women and nonbinary writers on surviving violence.
today there is nothing on my to-do list
if I close my eyes I can
reach into the earth
pull it inside out like a cardigan
wear it as my peacock feathers
Daya Bhat
* first rain- puddling up to gather the sky * midnight parade on my wall, insomniac car lights * still holding her own among the who’s who - crescent moon Daya Bhat from Bangalore, India enjoys writing free verse and short form...
Richa Sharma
cold saturday i thank him for nothing * mother's house where i was born still moonlit * anniversary the missing years in our collage * where wildflowers are caretakers unvisited house * childless spring in my parking space an abandoned tricycle *...
Emily Jo Scalzo
camera obscura peels back layers of fossil a quest for answers * tree buds blossom fragrance permeates the air wash away the gray * the blowhards posture hiding behind platitudes spewing vitriol * sole crime: running yet the punishment was death...