A firefly,
a list of misfires,
stormy and worn.
Tolls sorrily lit,
mirrors stirring low worries;
O loam,
O tidal forfeit.
I fall over rosy moors,
a roomy lion stirs
to lap my wrists.
Ad tyro,
ad ominis.
Still the sill amasses snow,
infirm and limned in filmy marrow.
I learn to yowl lorn and lowly:
all the moil for you, for me.
Hanna Karras’s work has appeared in Silly Goose Press, Stanchion, and Corporeal Literary Magazine.