November 1, 2023 October October 28th Tonight, I curl up on my friend’s couch. The fire crackles and threatens to spew bits of burnt wood beyond the grate….
October 19, 2023 Dusk Golden Hour casts her spell. Shadows stretch. The woods breathe deep. Branches creak. Lull honey-veined leaves To sleep. Light blushes Depression-glass pink. Enchants. The…
August 4, 2023 Only Paper Flowers My fingers craft blossoms. Layered crepe merges color—Thin, transparent, crinkled—Craving to breath.My fingers, craving to create flowers.Weightless. Real.Worthy of ash and petrified pearl.I crease, crimp,…
March 16, 2023 The Night Watch Cries rise. And crack. Desert and dunes. Endless. Sorrow? Shackled. Respite? A meal. Innocence lies limp. Life drained. Poured out. Like water. Heap. Bodies…
February 9, 2023 Metamorphosis My knees hit the cathedral floor. And my lips claim sanctuary. But my heart? It trembles. Marble. More comfortable than the altar. Old battles…
January 19, 2023 Haunts of Heaven’s Hound Scene I wander into the tree line. Bark ages like graying hair, and dusk drains the clouds, their lifeblood lost. Shadows blend. Creatures imagined…
December 18, 2022 Fairy & Advent: A Little Bit of Home by An Dau and Morgan E. Underwood Stories, including fairy stories, require light. A little light that ventures into the darkness and restrains the…
November 5, 2022 The Cartographer’s Study I’m drowning. Drowning in paper. “You tattooed all these maps with all kinds of lines—rich, thick and thin, blurred and clear. But my map?…
October 23, 2022 Paths Gap, Open expanse, Defying separation, Cries, “Fill the hollow. Weave emptiness into beauty. Spin the bond that binds Branching crowns to earth And ensnares…
October 6, 2022 Dear Reader, My name is Morgan E. Underwood. I am a theology nerd, lover of stories, writer, and mother to one black cat. Have you ever…
