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when I wake up I try to remember / what age I should be / on a Saturday filled with shades of champagne / not the age of my bones / but the age when my cheeks are rosy / realms of fantasy / meet in the southeast corner / on the map of our hometown / weeds pour out of my fingertips / like the new found veins that brought the abandoned car back to life / lores around here can’t be trusted / but I believe in the day greenery sprung from crying hills / forests split their palms open to claim years of rust and broken howls / if only to give breath back to a town taught to hold theirs / I do this at a cost / my spine cracks / like a skater who gave into the ice / I dig for the soaring birds / clouds stick beneath my low cut nails / the tree limbs shake sense into me / honey floods the sunset / I don’t waste a moment guzzling it down / and the warmth awakens something in the back of my throat 

Kelli Lage lives in the Midwest countryside with her husband, and their dog, Cedar. Lage is currently earning her degree in Secondary English Education. Lage states she is here to give readers words that resonate. Awards: Special Award for First-time Entrant, Lyrical Iowa.

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And as the rocks melt on this soup skin,   in this pot left on simmer for a few million years,   these memories push up through the soft spots.     And

Piper Cunningham Headshot

Poetry Prompts by Pepper Cunningham

Poetry Prompts Look up fifty-five of your favorite poems and use the third letter of the fourth word in every second line to write a sestina about loss. Make sure

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