top of page

october moon & other poems by eleanor colligan

October Moon

I know we’re all just walking each other home,

but their hands are so very cold.

Their cobweb blankets twinkle like Christmas lights in the morning,

but by moonlight they quiver.

I miss watching black ice reflect cleanly off your irises;

I miss chinks in my armour more, though.

And everytime I open my mouth,

it only seems to send postcards devoid of destination.

And so I ask: What’s the point of writing poetry

if you’re no longer here to feel it?

Taste of Heaven

When I can’t sleep/ And no one’s up but the mice/ and my roommates are humming goodnight in their / beds / I tell myself I’m keeping watch/ For them/ And letting them drift into the inky unknown/ well my eyes are trained/ for the unknown that is dangerous/afterall/ the world is not a good place /for young women

Ode to You

My roommates used Your old printer

(I still think of it as yours)

And I couldn’t explain to them


I’m glad everything reminds me of you-

I just wish it didn’t make me so damn blue

And I know I’m not supposed to say this-

But death scares me less now

For I know there’s a chance I’ll be reunited with you.


bottom of page