The lanyard lights above my head
were blurry as they twinkled,
but it was because of the crossbow bolt
that was accidentally shot
in my upper right leg.
were blurry as they twinkled,
but it was because of the crossbow bolt
that was accidentally shot
in my upper right leg.
I lost some blood & sensation,
which the homemade
cherry vodka couldn’t
cure right away—
I miss real stars at this time of year...
My leg will be fine
eventually,
the bars are beginning
to close down again
as holiday lights burn brightly.
Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at New York Public Library, a choral singer and a poet who loves traveling. Her poems have previously appeared in The Oracular Tree, Mediterranean Poetry, Muddy River Poetry Review, Shot Glass Journal, Poetry Super Highway, Polarity eMagazine, Walt’s Corner, The Poetic Bond (VIII & IX), First Literary Review-East and Jerry Jazz Musician. Her first chapbook, Conversations with dead composers at Carnegie Hall (Flutter Press) was published in January 2019, and her self-published chapbook, Remembering you as I go walking (Boxwood Star Press) was published in August 2019. Her first poetry collection, Hurricanes never apologize (Luchador Press) was published in December 2019. Born in Norman, Oklahoma, she lives with her husband in Manhattan.
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