A Quiet Root

We comb through hundreds of literary magazines to bring you one stellar poem or flash fiction piece every weekday.

“But why start anything so close to the end?” by Ian Campbell

I could hear her breath.
Outdoors, a teething wind.
Firs creaked as if burdened

with lateness and, dozing a moment,
I dreamt the alpine flowers mere
shriveled stalks in the dark.

Read it in Emerge Literary Journal

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