the sun mocks in golden laughter
girls trip over their syllables, skeletons
of their youth spilling riddles of time
against them they just can’t see it
yet; soon the light of yesteryear will
stretch ominously longer than they
remember; the ghastly apparition
in the mirror only their childhood ghost.
Linda Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry has been published in various journals the latest of which include: Skive, Speech Therapy, The Scarlet Sound, Itasca Illinois Poetry & Willow Tree Dreams, Dead Snakes, and Carnage Conservatory.