Size / / /

There is no one else here,

no face at the window,

nor electric hum of ghosts.

The trees outside are only trees,

the flowers on the sill

have no particular names.

I turn a dome of silence

over in my hands,

waiting for annunciation,

a collision of wing and claw

to rouse me from this calm.

Outside, hard frost has fallen

from the mouth of the moon,

collecting on the junipers,

pooling on the lawn. What

I wouldn't give for just one

more taste of your terrible

and exquisite tongue.




Pamela Steele is a past president of Fishtrap, an arts organization promoting writing in the West. Her poems have appeared in many places, including The Louisville Review, Riven, and a marquee in Corvallis, Oregon. Pam holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing (poetry) from Spalding University.
Current Issue
18 Nov 2024

Your distress signals are understood
Somehow we’re now Harold Lloyd/Jackie Chan, letting go of the minute hand
It was always a beautiful day on April 22, 1952.
By: Susannah Rand
Podcast read by: Claire McNerney
In this episode of the Strange Horizons Fiction podcast, Michael Ireland presents Little Lila by Susannah Rand, read by Claire McNerney. Subscribe to the Strange Horizons podcast: Spotify
Issue 11 Nov 2024
Issue 4 Nov 2024
Issue 28 Oct 2024
Issue 21 Oct 2024
By: KT Bryski
Podcast read by: Devin Martin
Issue 14 Oct 2024
Issue 7 Oct 2024
By: Christopher Blake
Podcast read by: Emmie Christie
Issue 30 Sep 2024
Issue 23 Sep 2024
By: LeeAnn Perry
Art by: nino
Issue 16 Sep 2024
Issue 9 Sep 2024
Load More