The dark doesn’t frighten me.
Evening is the softest word,
A velvet garment for the day’s
Transition into night.

The dark doesn’t frighten me.
Especially with the gloom of rain,
Night arrives as a rowdy
Aunt shaking off droplets
Hurtling apologies.

The dark does not frighten me --
She owns the twilight and makes
Lightning more electric. Thunder
And she are my lullaby.

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About the Author

Elizabeth G. Howard (she/her) explores gender, identity, and the natural world in her writing and art. She’s published in Tupelo Press, eMerge, American Craft Council, Boston Literary Review, Connecticut Poetry Society, and more. She writes Demand Poetry on her typewriter at live and virtual events. She calls Kansas City, London, and Iowa home.

Elizabeth G. Howard
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