Andrea Cremer, author of the "Nightshade" series, will be visiting Omaha.
"My life closed twice before its close; it yet remains to see if immortality unveils a third event to me, so huge, so hopeless to conceive, as these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell."
Now and then
You twitch in your sleep.
At first, your face is peaceful,
a swell of silence, a blank lullaby,
waiting, twiddling its thumbs for lyrics
written by Queen Mab's calligraphy.
Instead, the honest Puck
Sneaks up with dustings of tripped
Up fairy musk, curling up
Your nose with its more or less distasteful
Like an old dog twitching at a
Bad dream, you shoo away Hermia's
Irksome trouble, or at least, you try.
It frightens me a little, the way
Your body stutters, as if the
Weird Sisters are casting Macbeth's
Prophecies, and nights of
If I could, I would brush away
The spider beds, inked with dew and anxieties
From your head.
I love to see the lullaby when you sleep.