Seneca
She unhinged a door
Inviting in light
Once it tired of glistening rivulets
After it wearied of swaying hill tops
It could dust through the attic west window
Collect itself in wooden hallway cracks
Set in row house refuge
Before night’s bacchanal
LA Felleman is an accountant in Iowa City. She organizes a writers open mic at the public library (or via Zoom during pandemics) and serves on the advisory council of Iowa City Poetry. Her first chapbook, The Length of a Clenched Fist, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press.
