Lindsay Kolasa

did that tight ball of budding bloom know that one day it would rise from the mud through the murky water to unfurl its petals in all directions with its soft center pulsing like a bare chest cradling the endless sky? did it even question its role in the great journey — to see what … Continue reading →

Black: Cosmic genius, pitch and tar. White: Penumbra, dove plumage. Gray: State undefined, restless mind. “You know plain enough there’s somethin‘ beyond this world; the doors stand wide open. There’s somethin‘ of us that must still live on…” ~ Sarah Orne Jewett, “The Foreigner” Sometime in 2000

Dusty light glow, Waxen walls, And red velvet drape. Suspension. I walk into a square But I want to feel Circle. Well, there are circle flowers. There are circles under eyes. There are people circling this — Space. Over there she lies, Looking like she has Peace. Well, every part of her lives… Her body, … Continue reading →