Thick clouds of fog grow to enclose
surrounding trees whose leaves sag
in the stagnant air and under weight
of bats slowly munching on moths.
A lone floodlight tries to pierce
the fog’s dark veil but flickers out
as thin wisps of clouds and moisture
sucking moss hug erected stones
that guard the bones of those fallen.
By Carl Colvin
Carl Colvin is a freelance musician, teacher, writer, and editor originally from Chicago, Illinois and is now residing in the Cincinnati, Ohio area.
Carl served on the editorial staff of the Valparaiso Fiction Review for four years as an assistant editor, copy editor, and submissions manager at different intervals. Since then, he has freelanced by editing poetry and fiction for smaller literary magazines (which included starting and teaching in a workshop series at Moody Bible Church) and novels for individual authors.
Carl’s poetry can be found in Tuck Magazine, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, and Z Publishing’s Best Emerging Poets series. He also was published for his fiction in the Valparaiso Fiction Review.
As a teacher and editor, Carl’s mission is to provide new and emerging musicians and writers the opportunity to share and express their work while also developing the best versions of themselves as artists.
Carl holds a Bachelor of Arts with majors in creative writing, music, and humanities from Valparaiso University. He also holds both a Master of Music in Oboe Performance and a Performance Certificate from DePaul University. At Valparaiso University he was awarded the Anna Zink Springsteen award for his many contributions to the University’s literary culture.