When the voices are The voices are daggers today–Does it matter–Where they came from–Who sent them–How they sharpened–No.They. Are. Here– And so, voices, I hear you–I see your jagged edges–I am to be punctured–Perhaps even–To be cut open– Let’s see where your points settle–Then I will write– Photo by Charis Cotter Day one of the… Continue reading Poem 183 – When the voices are
Author: Vanessa Shields
Writer. Mother. Lover.
Poem 182 – Rise
Rise Up with the early bird,I watch her tug a plump-shinyworm from the wet summer earth. At first, standing still,the red-chested ave feels theunderground vibrations ofthe worm. She can hear itslithering in the dark mouthof its moist dirt mansionI call backyard. I watch her pull & bite & holduntil the annelid is in piecesin her… Continue reading Poem 182 – Rise
Poem 181 – 4:44
4:44 three fours in bright lightafter a finger tap to my phonealert & open to the incomingsignificance of this number a trifecta of angel messageconvergence after four stormspounded their palms on my pathI’m not afraid this time rather in awe – persevering through thethick muck of worry to dancein the torrential downpour oftrusting my foundations… Continue reading Poem 181 – 4:44
