The Penelope Review

a flutter
in the hollow of the chest
neither bird nor butterfly
but something softer
something less sure of its wings

the words you want to say
rest at the edge of your tongue
with waves that tickle and rise
but never crest

silence’s still
a language of its own
the only one you can hear
walking into a room
walls leaning in

a laugh escapes
not yours, but theirs
brushes against your name
before dissolving into the air.

your quiet becomes
a cocoon of almosts
where the world pauses
so you can bloom

a morning glory
fragile, brief,
breathtaking

E Kraft is a poetry editor whose poems have been nominated for the 2024 Pushcart Prize and published by The Hanging Loose Press, The National Poetry Quarterly, and others. She is grateful for everyone who has read her poems or attended her readings including her favorite dog from the local shelter.