Winter written by Lea Wülferth at Spillwords.com

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Winter

Lea Wülferth·December 5, 2017

English Poetry

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Winter

written by: Lea Wülferth

@l_peregrine

Mild weather left leaves
on the trees. Their rustling is
magic in silent winter.

You are only half
a thought away. Push and
I wake memories

About
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Lea Wülferth

DECEMBER 2017 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com

Born and raised in Germany, Lea Wülferth has been living and working in Brooklyn, NY since 2009, writing and making art under her name and the pseudonym L Peregrine. Inspired by themes of freedom, identity, memory, and truth, her work spans a spectrum from documenting and commenting on observed scenes and settings to abstract, surreal expressions in a range of visual media and the written word.

Lauren Scott

Lauren Scott writes poetry and memoir and enjoys the challenge of trying other genres. She has authored two collections of poetry: New Day, New Dreams and Finding a Balance. In 2021, she released her memoir, More than Coffee. She is a contributing author in the anthology, Poetry Treasures 2: Relationships, as well as in the upcoming anthology, This is How We Grow. Her fourth book, Ever So Gently, is a poetry collection to be published in June. She recently finished her first children's book and works with her illustrator with plans to release it this year. She lives in California with her husband, Matt, and their lab, Copper. They have two adult children residing on the east coast. Lauren's writing inspiration comes from her love of family, spending time outdoors, and finding joy in the simple things.

Shadows of New York by Francisco Bravo Cabrera

One day I sat and listened to the choirs of Babel.
It took me back to when I painted shadows in New York
which cast skyscrapers high above your garden.
And I wondered if an island, in the seas of nowhere,
would have served as shelter if our ship should sink.

Did a siren with her song lead you so far away from home,
and has that made you forget me?
Have you removed the old tattoos?
Did you forget the sailing trips?
Was it because Manhattan’s winds destroyed your jib?...

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Perpetrator