April 16, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Fibonacci Blue photo



Robin Harper







Lights off, heads down

The desks are your shields now.

Say I love you,

Don’t forget,

Follow the leader, it’s not over yet.


It’s getting closer, watch the door,

Does anything matter anymore?

Not grades or games or who likes who,

Survival is all that’s asked of you.

The dead are silent but speak the loudest,

Halls pulsing with the echoes

Of knells they heard without us.


The floors join the chorus,

With steady beat of feet.

Voices shuddering,

Hearts thrumming,

Of those left running,


As they raise their arms and cry,






June 20



About a face I dreamed,

that in the glare was twice forgotten.

And a meadow shared, with lilac witness,

of promise freely given.

In the dream I beg the dandelions,

hold your seeds a little longer,

show your heads full and hold them high.

For the keeper ticks his clock by you,

only deceit will grant us time.






Robin Harper

Robin Harper is a writer of short stories, poetry and the occasional political satire. She lives on an island in Massachusetts with her husband and two daughters, and therefore views the rest of the world as “off-island”.  She loves reading, coffee, more coffee and Resists like nobody’s business.

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