Three Poems by Meg Smith

 

Crimson Veil

I dance as
It lifts the haze of night.
This scarlet,
this mourning,
this music, flow
like cruel laughter,
sweeping through
the dark sky.
This is how
you walk
toward it,
blind.
This is how
I have danced
within it,
turning,
scattering sparks.

 

Strangers Rowing

A passage of bare trees,
Reaches down,
fingers mirrored
on the surface.
Winter has traced its mark
on the shore grass, on
every branch.
We are moving, past,
that is clear.
Threads pull, and
then fade.
At the approach,
shadows wait.
No one watches.
The way opens,
only to the dark.

 

Once Was Night

Whispers
in a bonfire’s snap,
the purr of the lake,
moving against
a shore of smooth stones.
There was no waking,
only the brush of dark wings.
There was no bond,
only blood.
Words fell,
and the light broke,
and all was dust.
No one whispered
anymore,
and waves stole
the driftwood,
to create anew
an unguessed
serpent to surface.

 

Meg Smith is a poet, writer, journalist, dancer and events producer living in Lowell, Mass. Her poems have appeared in The Cafe Review, Pudding, Poetry Bay, The Horror Zine, Silver Blade, Raven Cage, The Blue Hour Anthology, and many more. Her most recent poetry books, This Scarlet Dancing and Dear Deepest Ghost, are available on Amazon.

Glenn Bowie is a published poet, lyricist and photographer from the Boston area. He also owns and operates an elevator company that supplies custom-built elevators for clients from New England to Hollywood. Author of two poetry and photograph collections (Under the Weight of Whispers and Into the Thorns and Honey) on Big Table Publishing, he donates all profits from his books to various charities for the homeless and local animal shelters. Glenn is also the official photographer for the Newton Writing and Publishing Center.

 

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