Author Archives: Theodora Goss

Bal Macabre by Theodora Goss Death, playing a mandolin, asked when I would begin to join, with Hope and Love, the mad pavane. They turned in velvet tails, while antiquated veils fluttered like wisps of peacock-colored lawn. I did a … Continue reading →

Morning Song by Theodora Goss Let us away. The break of day should find us gone, and in our stead an empty bed will greet the dawn. Meanwhile we’ll be beneath a tree where woodbine twines, upon the grass as … Continue reading →

The Art of Loss by Theodora Goss I think I’m going to practice losing things. I’ll start with smaller things like the grocery list, my glasses, that cup of tea I’m almost sure I put down somewhere in the living … Continue reading →

Mr. Fox by Theodora Goss When I first fell in love with Mr. Fox, he warned me: You can’t trust me, my dear. Just when you think I am there, I am gone, I am nowhere. Look, I’m wearing a … Continue reading →

Autumn’s Song by Theodora Goss You are not alone. If they could, the oaks would bend down to take your hands, bowing and saying, Lady, come dance with us. The elder bushes would offer their berries to hang from your … Continue reading →

The Sensitive Woman by Theodora Goss There are days on which I am a thunderstorm, and days on which I am an eggshell. Today, I am so fragile that if you breathed on me, I would break apart. The pieces … Continue reading →

The Avalanche by Theodora Goss It occurs to me that you resemble a beautiful avalanche. So far, you have toppled my pine trees, buried my villages, brought down all the telephone wires. You leave a trail of pristine destruction wherever … Continue reading →