Spiderwebs
frosted to tinsel
herald fretful sleep
under lightless sky.
Ice glitters
in winter dark.
Huddled beneath
tangled undergrowth,
those most fragile
await light’s return.
Each evening,
stars fall groveward,
mocking summer’s fire.
—
Elizabeth Shack lives in central Illinois with her spouse, cat, and an expanding collection of art supplies and gardening tools. Her poetry and fiction have appeared in Contemporary Haibun Online, Writers Resist, Daily Science Fiction, The MacGuffin, and other venues. She attended the Kenyon Review Writers Workshop in 2022 and 2023.
