With Bells On
Their bells precede them. One by one, from thick brush, a hundred sheep emerge. They pour into the dry riverbed,...
Time’s Not
Time’s not snapshots in a flipbook but something fluid I can stand in, as if its waves create a drape...
After Visiting the Museum
One little life, such a tiny swish in the stretch of swinging stars. But here’s a spoon that’s made of...
Twice Today
My forearms, my feet, still tingle, still emit cool light. The Aegean, swept all of me, this morning, into her...
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Work by Susa Silvermarie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.