Poetry from Sue W-D

In Response to My Touch


Letters strung, loosely held by glaring white end caps

Words dangle soundlessly, caressing new found landscapes


Trust me, Love me, Need me,

Braille etched deeply across finger tips


Sun beats down, rock beneath, sky above

Anchored securely against storms raging


Chocolate warmth spills over

Bubbling just beneath the surface


Warmth creeps, stalking, longing

Waiting, finding purchase


Youth peaks shyly from beneath cobwebs

Hoping truth rests beneath butterflies


Cloudless skies smile on blooming fields,

Springs first blush creeps across hilltops


Daggers slice grins across scarred faces,

From newness springs smiles, laughter


Scarlet sears scratches perpetrated long ago

Replenishing losses, relinquishing all


Girlish giggles escape, released into forever

Dreams dreamt, realities replayed

Brittle Pages


Brittle pages flutter down from high
Long forgotten letters, words, thoughts
Dance across, away, glance off
Sunlight blazes holes through centuries


Letters skirt the edges of words

Belying memories
Black spaces truly emerge


Long sought after cherished memories

Only ghosts, wisping silently out of corners


Sand, sweat, salt air

Taffy, glaring white, denim


Cap shadowing eyes,

Swinging, cracking, adrenaline fueled sprint


Warmth, chill, crickets chirping

Damp sneakers, sore thighs, limestone cave


Tamra Maew


A frisky intelligence perches herself regally on the edge of the dirty beige sofa

and she begins to muse at length about ancient sacred knowledge.

My little Wichien-maat, so wise so fragile,

life has yet to show you the end of the string you chase in your youth.


Tilting your head and crinkling your nose,

an impatience for those less adventurous than you,

an agitation with those who linger too long in the blush of childhood

not ambitious enough to charge ahead after shiny baubles.


The sleekness of your hair betrays the unfringed anger,

bottled and brazen, uncertain of whether to bare your claws or slink away.

My little Wichien-maat, so young so persistent,

life will lead you to many different trials some barren some plush.


Let your bonds guide you.

Let your curiosity lead you.