I started working in the pharma industry in early 2020, just as the pandemic was beginning. The facility where I was employed was located a convenient 2-minute drive away and was a major hub of COVID-19 vaccine R/D and manufacturing. I'm still in the industry, and while I'm no longer at that particular facility, my … Continue reading Poem: Rising Steam
Tag: poem
Poem: There is Sunlight, There is Wind
I We begin as vegetables, climbing up from seeds like pumpkin vines atop the wooden garden trellis. All winter we’ve waited, tubers in the frozen earth, dreaming of leeks and apples, the breeze in the flowering pear. II There is an acorn within me, skipping madly between my ribs. O once I was wild grass, … Continue reading Poem: There is Sunlight, There is Wind
Poem: Band Practice at the Park
The pipers droned to a stop and I rolled my drum to silence when the rain came blustering over the treeline like a swarm of electric wasps jittering madly against the shelter’s tin roof so overwhelming a piper struck up a tune again but the pipe’s sound was drowned in the howl around us ancient … Continue reading Poem: Band Practice at the Park
Poem: The Snow is Heavy in the Field
Big flakes fall all day, cover everything. A child born this hour will know nothing different. But we know what lies beneath--the thin green fingers of irises, scarred wood from the season's last bonfire. Conversations buried like bulbs, silent until spring when the words bloom again. And other things--things we've been blind about, like gopher … Continue reading Poem: The Snow is Heavy in the Field
Poem. Sisyphus at the Summit
This was originally published in Issue 7 of Riggwelter way back in 2018. Sisyphus at the Summit The boulder crumbled eons ago--even the gods can't defy erosion. This is the question that rolledlike a dark ocean behind his eyes: what happens when the Almighty's will is bested by mere physics? Mortals weren't supposed to reach … Continue reading Poem. Sisyphus at the Summit
Poem: Wolves
An earlier version of this poem appeared in Bluepepper back in 2020. Wolves Promises slip through sharp teeth like killers through clipped fences. Wolves adjust their dripping neckties and paint red stripes on their fur. This is a truth— everyone is either a wolf or a wolf dressed like your neighbor. Men wrapped in flags … Continue reading Poem: Wolves
Poem: “Mid-breath, a Question” in Tiny Spoon
My poem "Mid-breath, a Question," is in Issue 8 of Tiny Spoon. Mid-breath, a Question Like that time we went driving past moonrise along black backroads and the cornflats sprawled like silver oceans while summer’s skirling nightbug chorus howled around in our truck and deer appeared like eldritch totems roadside in our blazing trucklights and … Continue reading Poem: “Mid-breath, a Question” in Tiny Spoon
Poem: “Questions, Answers” in Tiny Spoon
My poem "Questions, Answers" is included in Issue 8 of Tiny Spoon. Questions, Answers O restless midnight, what happens when the moon bends her wrists and braids silver mist through the trees? When the moon bends her wrists and braids silver mist through the trees, I grow like switchgrassand stretch out my hands to feel … Continue reading Poem: “Questions, Answers” in Tiny Spoon
Haiku in Modern Haiku
The following was included in the print-only issue of Modern Haiku, Volume 52.2, Summer 2021. Snowy branchold skinon my bones
Driving the Wine-Dark Roads: Robert Wynne’s “Self-Portrait As Odysseus”
You are lost, adrift in the vast, blue immensity of the sea. Greenblack thunderheads are gathering on the horizon, and already gargantuan waves are ramming the sides of your creaking wooden ship. There are faint crags in the distance, unknown mountains of a strange land where monsters might wait with unknown horrors. All you want … Continue reading Driving the Wine-Dark Roads: Robert Wynne’s “Self-Portrait As Odysseus”
Samuel T Franklin 