{"post":"The Wave


Crisp
crashing
cold

an interlude
from you

The pebbles
pulled back and
forth
like side stepping nails
white froth

an interlude
from you

The sun like
A camellia
for her
Crisp
Cold
drops
flicking on her face.

An interlude
from you."}

{"post":"On the War in Ukraine



The fire was so fierce,
so fair like an opal;
the most primal burn.
\"Death haunts these trees,\"
the woman said, as she held the pot
of beetroot soup above the fire.

They spoke from the basement;
living in the dark space,
nerves too locked up to
to look out the window
and watch the soldiers.

The girl leaned into the flames.
She watched them dance;
specks like illuminations.
She rumbled through her backpack.
\"It has been months since
I have been to school and
now I can go back but it is different,\"
the girl said,
\"now we have safe rooms
and bomb shelters.\"
She held a bowl to pour the
beetroot soup into.

They spoke from the basement;
living in the dark space,
nerves too locked up to
to look out the window
and watch the soldiers.

The woman heated her hands
above the flames.
\"Death haunts these trees,\"
she said,
\"modern day torture chambers
have been found along the countryside;
the horror, the horror.\"
It was not enough to want to die.

They spoke from the basement;
living in the dark space,
nerves too locked up to
to look out the window
and watch the soldiers.

The girl pulled out her chemistry book
from her backpack;
She put it up to the fire to see,
The flames danced like three witches,
she flipped to the periodic table,
\"Gold,\" she said,
\"I want to be gold,
I want to build knowledge
but know my life is at risk.\"

They spoke from the basement;
living in the dark space,
nerves too locked up to
to look out the window
and watch the soldiers.

The woman passed the girl
warm tea-
that smelled of fruit
and honey compote.
She looked the girl in the eyes;
where the flames of the fire
still danced like ballerinas.
\"More than 400 bodies have been found
in this woods.
Death haunts these trees,
We only heard they were destroying the forest,
They hunkered down in tanks,
The bombs started to fall that night. They
began to bury the bodies,\"
the woman said.

They spoke from the basement;
living in the dark space,
nerves too locked up to
to look out the window
and watch the soldiers.

The girl put the chemistry book on the
floor and began to cry.
It was water against fire,
fire flickered in her eyes,
\"It is a real genocide here,
if they don't help us now,
they will be next,\"
the girl said.

The fire danced;
the most primal burn.
"}

{"post":"The Waiting
By Sara Lelyveld
The whites of my eyes rise
And rise into the blue
Edge of an empty bowl,
A rock, a marble, a stone
The elemental
So flat is love and God
Waiting to remove the clouds and land
Silently at your feet in
The morning."}

{"post":"Roses
By Sara Lelyveld

The world stops
for a moment to day dream
about
a moment
of translusent
roses floating over
an artic moon."}

{"post":"This poem is about my existential wonder:

Girl
By Sara Lelyveld

Girl,
You are not going to live forever.
Girl,
You are not going to live forever.
Girl"}

{"post":"Blue Veins by Sara Lelyveld
She stared down
at her wrist
at the blue veins
like a map
to the north there
were fingers
like tree limbs
to the south there
was an elbow
like a notch in wood
sharp
and
angled inward."}