New Poetry This Week  

By Noelle Bowden

Rusty Swing Set

By Noelle Bowden | Spring 2024

Can the weather compete with itself
just like we do, the silent battles
all fought differently
blindly, full of anger, is that how snow
feels to you?

Together here, we know times mind,
aging with water 
revealing in hues of orange, burnt red 
brown ripples unmoving,
easy crumbling powder,
stale and flaky, heavy snow 
where the degradation hides, 
until June’s sun rips the cloak
of spring,
children in short-sleeves
just a year older.

Morana  

By Noelle Bowden | January 2024       The death in winter

The cold is what makes us
think, until we are full
and burst out,  a storm
that covers the entirety 
of your ground, grass frozen thick,
lakes a stone of glass.
 _____
And somewhere in that distance,
the snow still falls
in fog
that misted furry,
suffocating the air,
and I breathe as much as I can,
In.

Petite Pansy Faerie

By Noelle Bowden | March 2024

Iced violets she loves to visit,
in winter we party,
presence brighter than headlights
in the gray deepening road
the cars run amuck on,
but all night she twists
last blooms down
so no rain can drown them
their last push to sleep,
burrow with the seed
she says,

I could keep her here
on my shoulder,
all forever.