Member Poem

Once upon a midday dreary, lost in thought and visions eerie,
Cursing words that would not gather, paper crumpled on the floor —
While I sat there, nearly sleeping, I felt an odd sensation, creeping,
Soft as ink upon a letter: there were ghostly whispers at the door.
“Tis the wind,” I hushed my sorrow, though it shook me to the core —
“Merely wind and nothing more.”

Ah, but how the day grew colder, a February afternoon never bleaker,
My resolve grew ever weaker, knowing she would write no more.
Ravyne — writer, poet, speaker — friend and guide, a spirit seeker,
She who gave her time so freely, opening a welcome door,
Prompted me to write and bade me enter,
She kept me writing evermore.

With my glasses fogged with tears, I cursed the last five horrid years,
Yet then I swore I heard familiar voice, calling to her volunteers:
Low and lilting, dark yet tender, words like a poem I remember,
As if the ink had shaped a specter — one I’d known in days before.
Heart pounding and breath halting, I heard myself for Ravyne calling;
Were those her footsteps on the floor?

She, who wove with words each night, gave her wisdom, shone her light,
Offered kindness, shared her sorrows, became our most trusted mentor.
She who welcomed all who wandered, built this home and never pondered
If we had earned the love she offered — everything she had and more.
Still she lingers in these pages, in prompts and comments we adore,
Calling out to all her writers, “Brava! Encore!”

Though the cold nights are endless, and the dark seems vast and friendless,
Still her voice remains unbroken, her kindness impossible to ignore.
Not in darkness, not in dying, but in ink that keeps on writing—
In each prompt she left for us and in each poem’s beating core:
So she speaks and so she lingers, guiding us still — forevermore.

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This poem is dedicated to the memory of Ravyne Hawke (Lori Carlson), founding editor of Promptly Written, The Black Veil, and other publications. Ravyne shook this mortal coil on February 21, 2025, leaving behind a legacy of generosity, poetic excellence, embracing the weird, appreciating the macabre, and, above all else, of kindness.

We will miss you, Lori. May this tribute do you justice.