Looking Out at the World The hills swell like green bellies to the eye - Separated by lengthy rulers of emerald thread. From here I am Herculean, I breathe at the view, and it breathes Back at me. It is soundless, Unmoving as death, Except for one car - A red kia. It bleeds Its way through narrow bends. I look down and there is a cut on my arm A steady trickle. In this moment from up here All things are connected.
Charlotte Cosgrove is a poet and teacher from Liverpool, England. She is published in Trouvaille Review, Dreich, The Literary Yard and in various anthologies. She has work forthcoming in Confingo, Beyond Words, The Broadkill Review, Words and Whispers and Sledgehammer Lit. She is Editor of Rough Diamond Poetry Journal.
Amethyst Review 