Mother Winter

My icy sunset grows grey seas

beneath my farewell

the sun is always setting;

my tomorrow never leaves.

I am always on the horizon at the edge of coming

into the void of lost monsters

whose teeth grow only to be gnashed like ice splinters

under shafts of old light that is always blueing

like flame siphoning to its center all that is most

tender tense, strange strong, eternal elemental

and in my holding light I blue blaze forth—

Light to shatter, ice to pierce,

seas to rage and to cleanse.

Olivia Lee is a poet, novelist, playwright, and English professor. She has published two novels. Her poetry has been published in DoveTales—Writing for Peace, Sonnets for Shakespeare, Haunted Waters Press, Wild Roof Journal, Herstry, Underwood Press, and the Closed Eye Open, among others. Her play, In Emma Rendell's Attic, had a pre-pandemic stage reading. She is committed to social justice work and supporting Fair Trade companies. She enjoys traveling, books, art, listening to music, walking in the woods, and spending time with her sister, Suzie, and their two dogs, George MacDonald and Keeper. Connect: instagram@ladyolivialee