Poetry by Elizabeth Posner

      Nicholas Erwin CC




Sliding Door 

It's possible 
this whole thing will come apart. 
A Boeing dismantling mid-air, 
pieces scattered for miles into unrecognizable 
fragments of what we had built. 

It's possible 
we'll rise from our busted knees, 
look around at the lack of abundance 
in any other option and 
take the hand of the one beside us. 

It's possible 
we'll stitch together the threadbare fabric 
of our separate souls and 
merge into one being of complete surrender 
eyes locked, dancing to the final song. 

It's possible 
one of us will take a last breath 
within these arms, 
stretch long into the cosmos
wrap infinity around her finger and 
find us again.




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Sea  Cucumber

I know something about that,
about splitting yourself in two
but to save your own life.

He’s coming at me again
with that not-right look in his eyes.
I know what comes next.
Part of me is someplace else,
not swallowed by his darkness.

That part goes on like a whole person.
She’s funny and fearless.
Someone unshadowed by her secrets.
Someone not missing half a five-year-old.

Someone should have told my sister
about the sea cucumber.
I think he took all of her.



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First published in elementary school, Elizabeth Posner has spent decades dashing poems in private. After major life changes brought her to North Carolina, she started a family and poeming in earnest. Her poem, “Reading bell” is featured in the 25th issue of Masque & Spectacle, as well as “Changing the Bed” and “Beaten Heart” in July 2024 issues of The Bookends Review. Other poetry publications include Rat’s Ass Review, Cantos literary magazine and several others. She is also a national presenter and authorpreneur publishing with 13 novels published. SEChandlerBooks.com
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