Comments 20


There were roses in the stain glass,

between the door and the coat hooks,

blues and yellows, pinks and orange

mashed together in a narrow slab

of light refracted back off itself

until it collapsed into the hallway

sickened and greening on the hardwood floor

where my suitcases sat

waiting for someone else to lift them

but not quite sure

which direction they wanted to take.


This entry was posted in: Poetry


Carol J Forrester is a writer and a history geek. Her debut collection 'It's All In The Blood' came out November 2019. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon.Her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works.


  1. “Sickened and greening”…quite an image there of that broken stained-glass and really liked your addition of the suitcases needing someone to take them…somewhere.

  2. The glass echoing the sentiment, perhaps…and the suitcases…what happens next? Love that you leave it hanging.

    • I liked the parallel between the uncertainty of the poem and the character’s mindset. [Doesn’t that make me sound artsy.] You’re right about the glass though. I was thinking about Mackintosh’s stain glass roses and this sort of stemmed from that.

  3. i suppose
    if depression
    could really
    show as
    or poem
    there would
    be less stigma
    and more wanting
    to understand
    and gently
    the suitcase
    on for where it
    can go
    sickest of the
    sick often receive
    the least love or care..
    and to be clear i have no
    idea if
    ever now
    anything like
    what your words
    bring to me.. but
    it is what
    it is
    to me..:)

    • This piece was supposed to be about a relationship ending and I was trying to write it from the viewpoint of someone trying to leave but not knowing if they should or if they really wanted to.
      It’s funny you mention depression however, I’m currently working on a poem about depression.

      • Smiles.. Thanks for the clarification of the meaning you intended.. Of course our personal experiences impact our discernment of all language.. And mine is tainted both very light and very dark with only memories of dark.. TG.. At any rate.. thanks for the inspiration of your poetry.. Friend..:)

  4. scotthastiepoet says

    Dazzlingly good little piece Carol – love the imagery – lovely and powerful use of language that hits the spot perfectly at the end – I wall deffo be back for more… With Best Wishes Scott http://www.scotthastie.com

  5. There is such assurance in light through stained glass roses — the welcoming assurance of coming home — when that light falls to the suitcases on the floor, it has changed to the confusion and uncertainty of leaving. So well crafted, tightly, tautly put. Well done.

  6. “waiting for someone else to lift them
    but not quite sure
    which direction they wanted to take.”

    I loved this – sorry it took longer before I could visit you. Hope you have enjoyed your OLN.

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