Cinquain for Soldiers
We lay
prostrate, gore-cauled,
crying for our mothers.
And so we end as we begin,
in blood.
A Tanka for Tragedy’s Aftermath
The sea drives itself
to shore making promises
it will take thousands
of years to keep, same as not
keeping them at all.
Migration
Birds
fly
due south
for winter warmth
I get as far as
Cabo before my heart thaws out.
Long Island Winter
Earth,
sky,
ocean
breezes
and toppling
waves making merry
in the chilled New York Atlantic
Camarillo, California
Fire,
smoke,
traffic,
evacuation.
So little fits in a suitcase.
~~~
Colleen S. Harris holds an MFA from Spanding University. Her most recent poetry collections include The Light Becomes Us (Main Street Rag, 2025) and Toothache in the Bone (boats against the current, 2025). Her poems appear in Berkeley Poetry Review, The Louisville Review, Salvation South, among others. Follow at https://colleensharris.com. This is Colleen’s first feature with The Short of It.
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