Martin Engelbrecht German
Winter Poem
I’m spitting out these last shadows, counting them, spelling their names silently. Letters have no sound in this existence; a bubble of crystal, beautiful and deceptive. Warm interior, cold exterior, lined with black roses escaped from ancient libraries, still haunted by miniaturists who didn’t pay attention to inks.
Clelia Albano is from Italy. She’s a teacher of Italian and Latin, painter and poet writing in Italian and English. She has two collections of poetry, In Assenza di Naufragi, that was a finalist for the National Literary Contest “Il Mio Esordio 2018,” selected by the International Festival of Poetry of Genova, and Come Tutte Le Cose di Questo Mondo, a prosimetrum that was finalist for the International Mario Luzi Poetry Prize 2020. She’s been published also in English in the American anthology Winter and by the literary magazine The Night Heron Barks. She loves reading, learning languages and editing for Wikipedia, which she has done since 2012.