Top Stories

Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.

Asleep in November
My fingers tensed a month ago the dark inching forward at sinister speed dying leaves distracting in all their wretched beauty
By Bugsy Watts2 months ago in Poets
If Winter Were a Dress. Runner-Up in The Sound of First Frost Challenge.
If winter were a dress, and the fall—its seamstress— I’d spend the best of autumn trading gold-leaf cents and flecks of penny-rouge
By Gina C.2 months ago in Poets
Nursery Rhyme
Hey diddle Diddler- That cat’s a fiddler. The cows have jumped over the wall? The red hats just laughed To see cruelty made sport
By Judey Kalchik 2 months ago in Poets
seasonal affective dirge
the cold moves into my bones like a squatter claiming rights to an abandoned house; I stop venturing out to the porch to smoke my cigars.
By Raistlin Allen2 months ago in Poets
Roots of Experience
My feet are on the ground, Why are they? Where did they come from? What is keeping them going? I cannot see what is ahead,
By Rebecca Patton2 months ago in Poets
Autumn's Tears
They don't crunch under my feet anymore. They rustle, whisper reminders of days past, of eruptions of laughter. Brown, orange, and yellow
By Alexandria Stanwyck2 months ago in Poets
Early Frost
You weren’t supposed to come this early. Yesterday my bare arms sipped lightly on the sunshine. Had I known, I would have drunk deeply
By Sonia Heidi Unruh2 months ago in Poets
Let’s get smoky
Let’s start a fire Just you and I Cuz we’re only here for a little while before we ... Die Not to be morbid but each minute counts
By Sam Spinelli2 months ago in Poets
Frost Queen. Runner-Up in The Sound of First Frost Challenge.
The corporeal chill stiffens as Fall fades and air thins, bowing to the first. I cower cross-legged in dampness, beneath her cadaverous snow-mounted stare, for she knows I. The tremulous temper of blitzkrieg blizzards is nigh on this horizon.
By Edward Swafford2 months ago in Poets
I am who you say I am
I wish I could say I finally let go. I wish I could say you’re words don’t put a dent in my soul Here I am, sitting here.
By Cerina Galvan2 months ago in Poets
To the Beckoning Jailer. Winner in The Sound of First Frost Challenge.
Tell me, behemoth, why your big head looms above me as I walk amongst the smokeless fires.
By Mackenzie Davis2 months ago in Poets
Sunday Drive
Today was the last day of Indian Summer in Western North Carolina, land of mountains, rivers, and trees. I wanted to make love out in nature, under the birch, oaks, and pines,
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Poets