Today the pachyderms travel to 19th-century Amherst, Massachusetts, in search of a quiet place to enjoy Elisabeth Horan‘s Odd list Odd house Odd me (now available from TwistiT Press). Taking Emily Dickinson for her muse, Horan spins poems that journey inward and across centuries to explore sensuality, nature, love, loss, yearning, and one’s mysterious self. Invoking the Muse You do not Read More
Tag: emily dickinson
Barren—not of Words
by Elisabeth Horan I sit upon my little clutch It’s three – five – ten at The most Speckled little curds of me Within them— A glow of life to be A bulb / a flint A match / a yolk A shell of calcium Encasing the heart It’s the best thing I’ve ever made No sperm encroached No fertilization Read More
Sonnetype at dusk at graveside of young woman.
by Elisabeth Horan He who gives Me – taketh the Stone Eats the Loverslips – sways her Bones To magical heights – or was it a depth A lapse in heart pulse – or justified death A Man who touches such as this – hands Never take their leave, I part my Ocean Seas – I forge a New Iron Read More