Dusk falls in the night with no end
Hours slip by ticking Out cells of my eyes One laborious, one Yogurt, wet, heavy Slides thick like thighs Waitout the drumlike Dance of blood upon The water plane, a Would be quenching If it weren’t for the fact Of saturation—one cannot Force a toilet filled red Any more wet Read more
Elisabeth Horan
Elisabeth Horan is a poet mother student lover of kind people and animals, homesteading in Vermont with her tolerant partner and two young sons. She writes to survive and survives to write - We are all battling something. Let's support each other. Elisabeth enjoys riding horses and caring for her cats, chickens, goats and children (not necessarily in that order). She teaches at River Valley Community College in New Hampshire.