Coyote beside the road.
SUVs and trucks
never slowed,
each exceeding the speed.
No one notices.
Wild indeed:
carving out his life between
forest and highway,
barely seen
in the rearview glass.
He trots past.
2024 Highland Park Poetry Challenge, 3rd place Non-resident, Prime 53 poem, March 2024
the world is flat
no matter proof
of scientists
the atmosphere
dull
clouds merely
painted on the sky
frozen face
no muscle memory here
smiling feels contrived
a paper doll
edges crumbling
with age
fill me with air
so that I may float
into the atmosphere
- published 45 Magazine Literary Journal, January 2022
I
a woman in a box
Pinprick hole
admits the light
as I shift
and fold in to myself
Shadows drift
around my body
Dust motes
dance
before my eyes
My outstretched fingers
close off the beam
of white
momentarily
and I
hover in complete
darkness
I scratch and
scrabble at the
miniscule opening
ripping and tearing
fingernails snapping off
until the gap
becomes
substantial enough
to accommodate
my outreached
arm
published Gnashing Teeth Publishing, "One Poem a Day", April 2021
Thoughts crash hither and yon
runaway coaster
gather the threads
breathe in
brightest moon
clouds scudding across vibrant sky
close doors seal boxes
be still
Welcome to my website! This is how I often approached my words when I began writing again after a long hiatus to raise my three children and help my husband David start several businesses. Of course, my thoughts and ideas continue to wander and roam, or how else would I come up with ideas? But rather than closing doors, I now fling them open, rip off bandages, and write about everything which is inside and underneath.
Renee Butner 