Under The Skin
written by: Carrie Magness Radna
@cmrboxwoodstar1
Malaise is colored in many shades.
Before dawn, my eyes dart open with anticipation,
wondering how to set my blues to purple, or a simple gray—
a sunrise walk might do me good.
Can we comb out foreign objects from under the skin?
Our organs hold every type of emotion
sometimes for decades. 2020 is a rough one—
Our fascinators are made of face masks.
I try to search for people’s eyes when I’m out
(I’m hardly out; it’s hard to be out now)
but I like to disappear,
without being another irritant
others have to deal with.
Carrie Magness Radna
Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at the New York Public Library, a choral singer and a poet who loves to travel. Her poems have previously appeared in The Oracular Tree, Mediterranean Poetry, Muddy River Poetry Review, Spillwords.com, Poetry Super Highway, Shot Glass Journal (Muse-Pie Press), Vita Brevis, Home Planet News, Cajun Mutt Press, Walt’s Corner, Polarity eMagazine, The Poetic Bond (VIII-X), Alien Buddha Press, Jerry Jazz Musician, Rye Whiskey Review, Litterateur RW and First Literary Review-East. Her first poetry collection, Hurricanes never apologize (Luchador Press) was published in December 2019. Her new poetry collection In the blue hour (Nirala Publications), was published in February 2021. She won Honorable Mention Award twice, for “all trains are haunted” (Non-rhyming poetry: 2019) and “May (a Pantoum)” (Rhyming poetry: 2021) in Writer’s Digest Writer’s Competition. Born in Norman, Oklahoma, she now lives with her husband in Manhattan, New York.
Latest posts by Carrie Magness Radna (see all)
- Ex-glass - February 16, 2023
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- Sugar Moon - June 30, 2022