by Michael Shindler (February 2026)
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The Ebb
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The ebb and flow
Of memories
Recalled along
A familiar path:
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Five thousand dawns
pushing daisies
Below the lawns
Of youth’s aftermath.
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She was Walking
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I. She was walking to the maze
With the blackbirds and black days.
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II. She was walking to paradise
With her sins and sacrifice.
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III. She was walking to the coast
With beans and toast.
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IV. She was walking to hell
With a whistle and a bell.
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V. She was walking to God
With a sigh and a nod.
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A Poet
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A poet takes a nap,
Wakes up, looks in the mirror,
And thinks of his teachers.
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The creases on a map
Become clearer and clearer
As time fades its features.
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Michael Shindler is a writer living in Washington, DC. His work has appeared in publications including The American Conservative, The American Spectator, National Review Online, New English Review, University Bookman, and Providence. Follow him on Twitter @MichaelShindler.
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