by Ella Boleynn | Jul 12, 2022 | Poetry
I keep dreaming of hills Big hills. They rise out of flat land, a tower of road I have to climb. The call beyond the crest changes. At times, it isn’t even known – just some phantom draw pulling me on and upward. I always fear the car will fall off of the...
by Ella Boleynn | Jul 12, 2022 | Poetry
The water is still today. It’s one of those days when the sun and breeze cancel each other out, and you forget that you need sunblock. Soft spring water can make you forget a lot of things — decaying remnants of trees and homes, broken families and...
by Ella Boleynn | Jul 12, 2022 | Poetry
You never long to want or want to long. You only want to be wanted for so long that your bones crack into dust like gray grindings of the peppercorn.
by Ella Boleynn | Jul 12, 2022 | Poetry
I hear the lonesome wind come in against the moored boats’ bones as I load the warm laundry into the van. A dog tethers a woman across the street. Her eyes dart to her door when she sees me – hands plucking at the fabric mask she clutches. I smile, but the...
by Ella Boleynn | Jul 12, 2022 | Poetry
Nature doesn’t die when the snow falls like hushed ash. It sleeps. All that remains, the stems and stalks and seed clusters that hint of sprouts and spring and green expanses. They shiver in the cold. They blow in the wind. They quiver in the snow. They bend in...
by Ella Boleynn | Jul 12, 2022 | Poetry
I dreamed there were mushrooms growing from your head once. I woke and wondered, and it scared me. But then I tasted mushrooms. Truly. Felt them expand my mind – remembered they’d grown from yours. You always said the years moved in circles – dancing...
