Featured Poem

The Great Fear

Marge Piercy

Every year on our anniversary

we eat lobsters and drink champagne.

We give no presents: we have long

ago and constantly given each

other ourselves. But each mile

stone takes us farther on what

is still a journey into mystery.

We brood more on coming loss

imagine we might die together

but we know it’s unlikely. How

can I live with my heart torn out?

That is the fear at 2 a.m. while

a cold moon looks in at a bed

where I can no longer sleep.

Originally published in Coneflower Cafe, 2022