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Poem submitted to “Voir Dire of Love” poetry contest, Suzette Richards, sponsor, February 3, 2026.
Love sits in the witness box, ragged sleeves pulled over its fragile knuckles, Yes, its voice a mere murmur in the courthouse. Prosecutor: And what about the sallow allure of verses written on discolored parchment? Must we become venerable troubadours to mourn love’s uncertainties? Love: Definitely not! We tweet sonnets on Twitter~ text them to unresponsive ghosts who leave them on read. The heart wails raw, untuned, bleeding through pixels. What difference does parchment really make?
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