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What’s On Too many copper lights in this worn house, the wolf lies restless and I am not aware, when to walk, mark or carve, overthinking used to be a quality, now, I step aside, the side of plain and naked, of not lying down, still not losing grip, but that long-ago idea of wild and wander, of ice cold rain on a plain wooden floor is…still. The peace the wolf gave me, so hard to cover other than a sense, not even sure if it is real really peaceful, but it need only do, for now, for, man, did I try it all, acceptance, avoidance and now, escape, if I just mix all the herbs to drink at once, would that not be far easier, if I just stop holding, far more arcadian? Always two questions on Tuesdays, he knew me. Two lovers on the West coast, I told him. He hurled me, while setting plans for his own Saturday anyway, while November monsters havocked all, and so, the non-physical outcome redounded to some handsome mistakes, yet, fate never flaws when women talk about beauty- ful manes. Kate Copeland Kate Copeland started absorbing stories ever since a little lass. Her love for words led her to teaching & translating, her love for art & water to poetry…please find her pieces @ The Ekphrastic Review (plus Podcast & translations), First Lit.Review-East, GrandLittleThings, The Metaworker, The Weekly/Five South, New Feathers, Poetry Barn, Poetry Distillery a.o. Her recent Insta reads: : https://www.instagram.com/kate.copeland.poems/ Over the years Kate has volunteered at literary festivals and is now assisting Lisa Freedman with Breathe-Read-Write workshops. She was born @ Rotterdam some 53 ages ago and adores housesitting @ the world.
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January 2026
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