LINDA CRATE
Author Feature - November 2020

Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer.

 

My works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. I am the author of six poetry chapbooks: A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press – June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon – January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made To Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017), splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), and More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019). I am also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). I have two micro-poetry collections out: Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018) & moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020). Recently I have also published three full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020), The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020), and Mythology of My Bones (Cyberwit, August 2020). I am also a three time best of the net nominee and my poem rising of the phoenix was a finalist in the 2020 Origami Poems Project’s Kindness Contest.

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FEATURED POETRY

more inviting 

pumpkins, pumpkin rolls, pumpkin spice;

i live for all the things pumpkin


but there's also apple cider,  

and apple pie;


not to mention every glorious

hue of the leaves—


it is not hard for me to see why

autumn always steals my heart away,


she is the prettiest season;

and unlike spring she doesn't plant lots


of mud on my shoes and boots—

& she usually doesn't have a lot of rain,


the only thing about her that i disagree with

is the mornings are bitterly cold and the evenings


are either very hot or very cold;

i wish she could make her mind up and be


moderate like most of her days

because that would be more inviting.

room to grow 

like anne of green gables,

i am glad to live in a world

with octobers;

the best month of the year,

i think

because autumn is like a second spring

with all her colors and vibrant hues—

the leaves dance around

in the wind,

and the crows bedeck

trees;

and everything is beautiful—

in autumn i feel

as if i am pretty, too,

because my best memories are buried

in autumn leaves and apple cider

and pumpkin spice lattes;

in autumn the promise of new beginnings

and letting things go

is every present

reminding me that even in seasons of loss

there is room to grow.

the only aunt that can hug me

when i visit my best friend

in autumn, it feels like 

a hug that i've given myself;


her enthusiasm spills 

into me

making the season we enjoy

all the more better—


i love to fall into the spell

of autumn


with all her magic,

all her leaves, and all of her

hues and scents and laughter;


if autumn were a person

she would be my favorite aunt—


the only one i would let hug me.

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