My story, The Stones, was published by Black Poppy Review today! (They have reopened their gates!) Click the link below to visit this haunting publication full of dark wonderful poetry and flash fiction!
https://blackpoppyreview.blogspot.com/2023/08/the-stones-by-jan-darrow.html
Dr. Frankenstein’s Laboratory
He wrapped me in a gown of green
a great grey cotton white
and wheeled me into Shelley’s Lab
Dr. Frankenstein and I.
The shelves were lined with plastic tubes
and clips and saws and kites,
and in a vein blue sleeping juice
so I could sleep all night.
In my heart he lifted valves
with spoons and forks and knives;
a slithered silver dark red hose
frayed from the inside.
He found some spark nodes out of place;
copper veins too tight,
and in the end he made repairs
still
part of me won’t light.
from Autumn Poetry: A Collection for the Season
Available on Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Autumn-Poetry-Collection-Jan-Darrow/dp/1493519085
Then She Was Gone, by Lisa Jewel is truly a strange tale. Mysterious disappearances always intrigue me and this one held my interest all the way through. A fast read. Yes! I would recommend!
8 Poetry Collections for Sweater Weather - posted by Read Poetry Blog.
https://www.readpoetry.com/8-poetry-collections-for-sweater-weather/
I want to share another chateau renovation project that I watch on YouTube. (I have watched this one from the beginning.) It’s called How to Renovate a Chateau. This is this is probably my favorite and I want to share the latest episode where they have taken a vacation to northeastern Italy to the Dolomite Mountains. They actually do some mountain climbing. I also recommend watching this series from the beginning - their chateau renovation - and it’s beautiful.
Blue Moon
The second moon
emerged from behind a cloud
outside our kitchen window.
Bleached luminous dust.
There are holes you say
in a black heart
gaming a backdrop of stars.
We followed it with our eyes.
Weeks later
all that was left was a sliver.
From a large white ball
grazing that warm summer night
we tell ourselves our emotions
were unattached.
And yet, were they?
Jan Darrow. (c) 2023
