Poems & Essays

18 Sep


General/Column No Response

It was the only voice
I’d ever heard
tiny hiccups of sound,

the first note followed by
a vibrato of noise
violin strings of crying,

legs and arms spasming
so thin, they were
almost transparent,

the sticks of bones
composed of glass
and light,

and a heart–
a heart flying,
a heart next to mine.



Alison McBain is an award-winning author with more than sixty short works published, including prose/poetry in Litro, FLAPPERHOUSE, The Gunpowder Review and The Airgonaut. She is the Book Reviews Editor for Bewildering Stories, and a regular contributor to the international literary collective Reader’s Abode. In her spare time, she blogs about local author events and interviews writers at http://www.alisonmcbain.com/.

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White Laurel September 18, 2017 Life-Lesson September 18, 2017