Cailín Frankland
veterans day
there is an ending in the air.
something borrowed, left unreturned
and then forgotten; the breeze wants it back now,
has given summer enough grace. leaves crunch
under my work boots, shudder on balding branches
as the pavement calls them home. light street is
a setting sun: going, going, gone.
Bio
Cailín Frankland (she/they) is a British-American writer and public health professional based in Baltimore, Maryland. A Rhysling finalist, Best Microfiction nominee, and Briefly Write Poetry Prize Shortlistee, their work explores themes related to feminism, disability justice, queer liberation, and intergenerational trauma across a range of genres and has been featured in numerous print and online publications. They live with their spouse, two old lady cats, a rotating cast of foster animals, and a 70-pound pitbull affectionately known as Baby. You can find them on X as @cailin_sm.