September 15th, 2025
by Emelia Faye Macdonald
There are no laws here
where the sterile brome has cast its golden shroud across the curves of the Earth
and frost bites the tooth.
Where the hare is boxing in the morning
breath like gun-smoke.
The walker-weaver spins a crystal net across the gate
dawn collects the stars from the sky
the wreath of wool is tangled on the nail.
The window clouds over and my stomach hurts with yearning.
About the Poet
Emelia Faye Macdonald resides in Edinburgh, Midlothian, Scotland.
Read the poet's biography and Wax Poetry and Art publications
on Emelia Faye Macdonald's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #13,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in Edinburgh Poetry Magazine:
The Jazz Bar
by Sean Robertson
Edinburgh Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
- This website and all contents ©Kirk Ramdath and specified artists.
(Advertisements)