Another grief on top of grief,
we return from abroad,
 
and it was never there, a thief
reveals
this existence a fraud.
 
In the sky are twinkles
in darkest space,
clouds that look like algae blooms,
 
or it could be only dust, a flume
of opacity.
 
What is life but belief?
Without certainty of God,
life and death but two countries,
the boundary our breath.
Betsy Mars practices poetry, photography, pet maintenance, and publishes an occasional anthology through Kingly Street Press which she founded in 2019. In her spare time she works as a substitute teacher and proctors exams. In 2020, her poem was selected as a winner in Alexandria Quarterly´s first line poetry contest series. Her poetry has recently appeared in One Art, Sky Island Journal, Sheila-Na-Gig, and Autumn Sky, as well as numerous anthologies and journals. She is a Best of the Net nominee and her photos have been featured in various journals including RATTLE and Spank the Carp. Betsy is the author of Alinea (Picture Show Press) and co-author of In the Muddle of the Night with Alan Walowitz (Arroyo Seco Press).