Poetry by Katy Santiff
I don’t want to disconnect myself for
you from the magic of my inner world.
I want to imagine that when I plunge
my fingers into the soft Spring dirt, they
find themselves inside the skin of toadstools
and upon removing them again from
the earth, mushrooms emerge like the dewey
bulbs of an inverted glove. I want to
imagine that when I drag my fingers
out upon the night sky, space shimmers and
these stars ripple like light reflects disturbed
upon the darkest water. I want to
imagine that when the wind heaves through the
trees on a hot day, summer is breathing
heavy. I want to still imagine that
somewhere below us sugar lies in veins
like salt and the roots of honeysuckle
mine it. I want to imagine that when
I imagine so big that my senses
rush, this buzz is felt in shudders through the
world–and as long as somewhere in a glen
glossy bees are humming, I love you there.
About the Poet
Katy Santiff has written poetry in various forms all her life. A fan of meter and rhyme, she loves lines that hypnotize the reader with their sound. She believes in densely packed poems, preferring them to be mouthful when read aloud. A lifelong Marylander, she loves waterside living. She currently resides in Edgewater, Maryland. Her works have been published in Vita Brevis, Spillwords Press, and Uppagus Magazine.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.