Three Poems By Kelly Glass

The Bird Who Saw Everything: a Curtal Sonnet
  
From her thicket home, the brown thrasher spied
a king and queen’s budding love in the green
house tucked in the corner lot. Her offspring
grew and stretched wings along with the bright-eyed
children of the happy home- all hearts: serene. 
And then, quietly, a small wound, a bee sting 
of an injury that festered and cracked
the shield of love over them all, guillotined 
hearts in shocked hands, refusing to contravene 
love. The brown thrasher knew you’d never come back, 
Wreaked King.  

Confession Poem -Golden Shovel- “Notes on the Art of Poetry” by Dylan Thomas
*In the world between the covers of books*
  
This is just to say that in
the dead of night, when the
house was in a deep slumber, the cyber world
whispered my name between
blinks, so I slipped out from under the 
weight of heavy covers,
tiptoed lightly down the hallway of
our house, and bought more books.  

The moth angles down-
powdery gold cloth wings caught,
entangled in air.  

Kelly Miller is a writer of fiction and poetry whose work has appeared in Gemini Magazine and *82 Review. Her visual poetry can be viewed on Instagram at kellymiller_