• Marías at Sampaguitas

Poetry by S. T. Brant

In Love


The bells chime,

The lyre, harp, and trumpet;

The notes are the rays

Of the moon, the mirror

Of the sun; the beam

Of your eye Eternity

Of Evening, a time

Of stars that puff

Apart as flower leaves.

Spin, spin in that field

Blown of flower

Buds of sound,

Petals structured

Of refraction solidified

By jewels decked

In the wind, embedded

In your heart

By the sun’s hands.




S. T. Brant (he/him/his) is a teacher from Las Vegas.  Pubs in/coming from EcoTheo, Door is a Jar, Santa Clara Review, Rain Taxi, New South, Green Mountains Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Ekstasis, 8 Poems, a few others.  You can find him on Twitter @terriblebinth or Instagram @shanelemagne. 

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