By: Alison Lubar
orchid's gradual inch to the window
one set of footprints in snow
your pillow nuzzle when I kiss you
goodbye
sherbet punch sky
striated in the morning
rearview-mirror moon
2% swirled in coffee
as prophecy
Alison Lubar (formerly Myers) teaches high school English by day and yoga by night. She lives in New Jersey, with a bad dog and an overgrown garden.Her work has been published by SWWIM Every Day, trampset, The Esthetic Apostle, Lady Blue Literary Arts Journal, and in great weather for MEDIA’s most recent anthology, Suitcase of Chrysanthemums; she also has a piece forthcoming in Glassworks. Follow her on Twitter @theoriginalison.
"With “This here, is muse:” I started thinking about what prompts me to write, the catalyst for creation, and how often it’s simply witnessing the transmutation of the ordinary into the sublime. For me, this poem is about being struck by poetic lightning, the everyday as static electricity, through immersion in the present. Whether it’s the pattern of milk in coffee or the half-asleep sigh of someone I love, the overwhelming of my senses always starts something."