Shadows At Night, by Natalie Crick

Shadows dance:

The shape of your ghost

A pornography of orchids,

Soft, quiet as new snow.

Night fulls.

Our bodies grow limbs.

They rise and sink,

Feeling for a heartbeat.

Longing, melting

Like dead bees pouring

From a smoking hive.

Tulip petals close.

The stars will not hold back.

They starve for light.

Moon dreams on,

Clumsy as lead.

Natalie Crick, from the UK, has poetry published or is forthcoming in a range of journals and magazines including Rust and Moth, The Chiron Review, Ink in Thirds, Interpreters House and The Penwood Review. Her work also features or is forthcoming in a number of anthologies, including Lehigh Valley Vanguard Collections 13.This year her poem, ‘Sunday School’ was nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

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