Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

O’er the sea on the mist
the voices call to my heart
the lights floating crest upon crest
dimmed in the crash of its rocky start

I hold each whisper sung to me
gazing far off but holding back
no longer yearning to be free
sending back sighs on an unlit path…

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Jun 7

Taken by the author.

The show of not-quite-summer
the fruits of late showers
pink, purple — white for me
like sweet honeysuckle back home
but much more brief

— I would like to rest here
a bit more, under the shady
aroma, respite from rain
and perspiration —

ma petite chienne she falls
asleep under…

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Abigail Siegel

Abigail Siegel

Classics instructor and Latin teacher. Writes poetry, short stories, and book reviews. Loves myth, folklore, and ghosts. Author of Loss And Other Landscapes.