The Woman at the Well
By Madeleine Roberts You’ve mistaken me for Righteousness I fear A woman on her own (She thinks she’s on her own) Will wager with the devil When she fights alone (She thinks she fights alone) Some words kick up Mountains in the mind And that’s how they’re true You’ve mistaken Read more
First Spring
by Madeleine Roberts From the first spring we learned enough of mauve and purple petalstuff, wisteria curled in peacock plumes, and Eden’s honeysweet perfumes, to know that dying never fits the ground, and though the earth forgets the sound of its revival song, the winter cannot linger long.
Sun
by Madeline Busse Streets stained white with salt Like bleached desert bones Nakedly reflect cold light, Bordering grass brown from snow now gone. On my walk to class, the sun emerges: The wind still slices, but the sky is blue Windows once grey glow with midmorning Stone walls catch rays Read more
Flood
by Madeleine Roberts When the rocks cried out for weeping I knelt to the ground and wept. This sphere is too great for cupped hands like water at the fountainhead overflowing, baptism of reflections. I am quiet multitudes past the sum of my fears, though the hours waver in high Read more
Colors
Colors You tell me what you hate of me, exactly what I want to hear, Foreign feelings mold to malice as they fall on filtered ears Difference smears an ugly stain on unheard words and standpoints mostly, But maybe then…if I’d been looking closely, Would there be different colors from Read more

