Susan Peters

Susan Peters
is relatively new to poetry.  An avid writer in school, she returned to it many years later after a career in fintech and law.

Gone

I.
The earth yields springtime hills
sprouting pungent ramps,
Garlic and musk. They said
you’d stay and heal.
Though, as the sun pulled the cold
from your bones,
you left.

II.
I met a man who resembled you
But there was a dark pool at his feet
That crept up his body until he vanished.

III.
A loud noise frightens a mink into eating her young.
My shadow self, always watching,
points at me – have you done the same?
Imposter mother – she accuses.

IV.
The earth’s demand
Became a plea for summer.
I forced myself to believe
Fairies danced under mushrooms
And trolls, moving rocks, made thunder.

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