Reverie
A poem for the distant spring that seems to be making its journey from faraway across the sky.
Published in
Dec 4, 2020
It’s nearly the crest of the year.
I can feel the sun gaining strength
against the silent winter nights,
galloping like a horse on high.
The birds can feel it too;
they sing no more
frozen swan songs,
only sweet dawn songs.
The lovers nestled
in their cold cavernous caves
sicken at the coming sun.
They know only true love
happens in winter.
Aigner Loren Wilson is a Black SFWA, HWA, and Codex writer. Her work has appeared in Arsenika, Terraform, Rue Morgue, and more. She writes or edits for Strange Horizons, Nightlight Horror Podcast, Oly Arts, Discover Pods, and more.
