Poetry is the process, the
language of relationships
as they occur. A spark, the flash,
the winding road. I understood it,
potentially. At this age, I encounter poems
in drafting. I suspect I am myself now.
I could be kinder to this world. I would like
to find out.
Emma Johnson-Rivard is a midwestern writer of poetry and weird fiction and a doctoral candidate at the University of Cincinnati. Her work has appeared in Strange Horizons, Coffin Bell, Red Flag Poetry, and others. She can be found at Bluesky at @blackcattales
