Rest on the rocks, feel their reassuring solidity, take a deep breath to still the panic that rises like bile, recite the litany against fear and imagine Sisyphus happy.
Agnes Vojta
Agnes Vojta grew up in Germany and now lives in Rolla, where she teaches at Missouri S&T. Her work has been published in the Gasconade Review, Poetry Quarterly, Southwinds, and elsewhere.
Speechless
The mute years are dunes of unwritten words that shift with the winds, memories evanescent as mirages. I wish I had driven poems like stakes into the ground to anchor time.
Before a Winter
Precariously, the sycamores perch on the river bank. Tangled roots, unearthed, claw the gravel. Yellow leaves litter the ground like unanswered letters or debts too high to be forgiven.