The sky is dead white
fading to gray, wet black
branches draped across
like old hands clasped
on a chest. I am inside
where light is soft, orange.
I’m making apple pie
and spiced cider–smiling
at the emptiness outside,
somehow more alive
as the world goes to sleep.
BIO: Vanessa Kittle is a former chef and lawyer who now teaches English. Vanessa lives in New York with her partner and two cats. She published two books with The March Street Press, and has appeared in magazines such as Liminal, Contemporary American Voices, Phantaxis, Dreams and Nightmares, Star*Line, and Silver Blade.
Vanessa edits the Abramelin Poetry Journal. She enjoys watching cheesy movies, cooking, gardening, and Star Trek!