Sunday, July 09, 2023

New Poetry by Elizabeth Morse










The Past is a Food You Can No Longer Find in Stores

The past is a living room with comforting chairs.
The past will come back and tap you on the shoulder.
It leaks out of everything: green, yellow and orange.
Faulkner said the past is not even past.

The past is a chunk of life, completed and examined.
The past is an inscrutable block of concrete.
There are some words you’ll never really know,
some chapters you’ll never truly understand.
The past is a riddle you may not be able to solve.

The past is writhing with life, pulsing with energy:
drag it out and watch it kick and scream.


- © Elizabeth Morse 2023


Elizabeth Morse’s poetry has been published in literary magazines such as Ginosko, Kestrel, and Survision. Her poetry chapbook, The Color Between the Hours, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press in late 2023. She was a finalist in the Blue Light Press full-length poetry collection contest and has her MFA from Brooklyn College.

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