Linda M. Crate

the wounded doe 

the creek melancholy and cold

sang of only reflections, shadows, and blue;

 

nearby the galloping

of hooves

a wounded deer leaping high

to escape the jaws of the coyote

 

in pursuit

the creek proves no reprieve

for the doe that splashes through

because the coyote is on her heels

 

she can sense death ever coming soon,

but she does all she can to escape it;

all any living creature wants to do is continue

to live in its comfortable existence

 

without pain or suffering

she runs into the road not seeing the car

that barrels into her and injures her

so badly that the coyote’s fangs

 

once considered the cruelest foe

may be considered something of a blessing

as she falls into the grass she knows it’s over

bleeding and broken she dies.

 

-Featured in Issue 1. 


broken lyric of the witch 

the earth trembles

softly beneath the song

of the witch

 

her ire stirring up things

best left for dead

in her revenge

 

everything in the forest

known to man and unknown

rises in a chorus

 

insects, beasts, and enemies

of mankind each with the singular

purpose of avenging the witch

 

whose daughter was slain

at the hand of those

who mistook her goodness for evil

 

her mother is not so quick

to forgive and forget as they say

she ought

 

her daughter was her beating heart

outside of her body and now

the music is gone so she must be avenged.


mad man

the cliffs were high

his spirits low

beneath in the land

was a fae

shimmering with the gold

of summer with a heart of winter

cold and aloof

she married his best friend

in an act of spite

holding his heart hostage

for her own amusement,

and he saw her dancing beneath

he begged the earth for a reprieve

of her treachery

watching as the earth swallowed both

his friend and his wife into the deepest pits of fire

wondering if he had done the

right thing

he stood on the cliff

feeling as if he were losing his mind to madness

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