Lothlorien Poetry Journal

  Doing Our Best   Left my Pendleton shirt at my girlfriend’s house the night we split. I saw her wearing it in Doc’s It Club- K...

  While Reading Szymborska’s “Monologue of a Dog” with My Cat I’m reading Wislawa Szymborska, poet of my immigrant grandparents’ home...

  THE RIVER HAS A BUCKET LIST, TOO   I wished to see the Taj Mahal before life ends.   I am not alone in this: I’m told eight millio...

  What Is Wicca   a wise Witch   once told me   it’s fresh cut grass lending its tender scent to gifted feet   so I ...

  Seasonal Transformations   As fall folds summer into the bottom drawer and pulls the winter sweater from the back closet, I gaz...

  Diagonal Attraction Flash Fiction by  Emmie Christie       The stoplight arrow pointed up and to the left.             “Weird,” ...

  An Ode to Nothing   My shame that I did curse thee once before, When I complained “Nothing is happening!” A shaking fist from a frustrated...