Sacto and Solstice Ghosts
The air opens,
vaster.
Mysterious. Emptiness
cloaked in darkness.
It moves toward you, alone
through river froth.
It is loosed.
It
moves past you, alone,
watches you, alone,
playing with,
stalking. You alone.
Autumnal mischief
on the river
in the tree.
City, made for fall.
A poem by Ashley Brown of Lincoln.
Published on 11.29.12
A poem by Michelle Kunert of Sacramento.
Published on 11.22.12
A poem by Kara Synhorst of Sacramento.
Published on 11.15.12
A poem by Yasamin Safarzadeh of Sacramento.
Published on 11.08.12
A poem by Dianna MacKinnon Henning of Janesville, Calif.
Published on 11.01.12
