The Local


oak and leather corner pub

warm glow of Guinness

tensions softly fold to sighs

beyond these walls





That widen in surprise

Tear in sympathy



That writes of playful things

Whose ink spills out in flourishes

Drawing pictures in words


That clicks with musical beat

Whose letters speak to screen

In engineered friendship


That explodes, whispers, cries

a tale I don’t want to hear

but I can’t turn off


That speak of love

With the softest caress

on the cheek


Muffled by mask

That can’t hide the smile

In the eyes

Ode to Candle Stub

Wax almost spent, wick bent and blackened

dripping life blood of self in service

sleeping old soldier

bivouacked in the back of the drawer


found when pawing for pen or twist tie

always ready, willing to accept

the sweet kiss of fire, illumine

the great pool of dark as strong as

younger, taller, more fortified

tapering heights

Service to the end of life

Service to the depths of self

Service highly valued

to the stubby end

Cathy Hollister

Cathy Hollister is an older writer whose poetry often explores the treasures embedded in age, isolation, and continual readjustments. When not writing you might find her on the dance floor enjoying the company of friends or deep in the woods basking in the peace of solitude. Her work has been in Silent Spark Press, Humans of the World Blog, Open Door Magazine, Beyond Words Magazine, The Ekphrastic Review, Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine, Poet’s Choiceanthologies, and others. She lives in middle Tennessee.

Listed at Duotrope
Listed with Poets & Writers
CLMP Member
List with Art Deadline
Follow us on MagCloud