Sunday, May 29, 2022

Garden by Susan Isla Tepper

My sadness belongs to no one
to choke on and die
All mine— and I follow rules
dig twice as deep as the root ball
swallow you in segments
while I sleep
hating and adoring.
Rain clouds crash the bleak night.
Passion is only a construct
and time becomes apparent 
upon awakening— while you labor
sucking out of a dead earth.





Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres.  Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.


Wednesday, May 18, 2022

In Shadow by Susan Isla Tepper


Across a frozen pond your figure

in shadow, black

and featureless

A stand of fir as backdrop 

for protection 

though you were unaware

And, so still— as if  

you’d dropped down 

from masses of clouds 

to assess

or perhaps see me one last time.







Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres.  Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.