The Shapes of the Ancients

A brand new, exclusive to Substack poem

Magical twinkly globes suspended in the trees of Washington Square, Brookline, MA.

Just as the calendar clicks over to December, I’m delighted to share the news that I am the featured poet (with five of my winter poems included!) in the upcoming issue of Trillium Moon's Winter zine, available to purchase now, via this link. This is an old fashioned print magazine and there are limited copies available, so don't wait!

The creator of the publication, Heaether, has done a beautiful job of curating this Winter issue, which includes journal prompts for each winter month, stories of winter folklore from around the world, and a whole slew of cozy ideas for celebrating the Equinox, the 12 Days of Yule, Saint Brigid's Day, and more. And I'm swooning at the gorgeous illustrations throughout.

I bought her Autumn issue and enjoy it so much - it's a wonderful way to disconnect from technology, slow down, and reflect on the present month and season. I highly recommend building the new issue into your winter routine.

Speaking of routine, I managed to get myself bundled up (not entirely necessary, given the mild state of Boston weather today) late this afternoon to take a brief walk around my neighborhood for some fresh air and movement (very much necessary, given the state of my housebound, cranky self today). Like most things that are good for me, I grumbled about it for the first quarter of a mile, but at the end of the two and a half mile ramble, my spirits were considerably lifted.

Lately, I’ve had a few folks ask how I prefer to write poetry (at my desk? a local tea shop? on my laptop?), and while I stitch together many moments and places to scribble verses, I find myself most often composing poetry on a walk. Tonite’s stroll was no different. I began listening to an audiobook, but soon switched it off once I got fixated on a phrase that was floating around in my brain: “…the shapes of the ancients…”

What did this line mean? Where did it go from here?

I turned off the audiobook I had been listening to and opened up a blank email. The poem below is my determined attempt to find out the answers to those questions.