Silkworm 11 Is Open for Submissions

Silkworm10 web

Silkworm, the annual review of Florence Poets Society, is open for submissions! You are invited to submit your poems to be considered for Silkworm 11–The Eleventh Hour to be published in fall 2018.
 Please submit up to 3 poems of no longer than 50 lines each on the theme of “the eleventh hour.” The theme may or may not be taken literally. Deadline for submissions is April 15, 2018.
Please include a 30-word bio with your submission. Only electronic submissions will be accepted, as an MS Word document attached in an email sent to There is no fee to submit your poems for consideration. Members and non-members of Florence Poets Society are encouraged to submit. Please visit their website for more information:
 Simultaneous submissions are acceptable so long as you inform them right away if your poem is accepted elsewhere. They claim first American publication rights, with rights reverting to the author after the initial publication period; please give us credit in future publications. We prefer work that has not been previously published.
Submissions from within the United States that are accepted for publication will receive a contributors copy of Silkworm 11. For international submissions that are accepted for publication in Silkworm 11, we reserve the option to send contributors an electronic PDF copy rather than a print copy. This is because of the high cost of international postage. Florence Poets Society does not and never will require a fee for submissions.

They look forward to reading your poems!


From the Nicaraguan Poet Francisco de Asis Fernandez


Anunque el cuerpo se marchite


Hay un misterio que sobrepasa mi llanto y mi sobriedad.

¿Qué esconden las tinieblas? ¿Qué disrazan las sombras?

Cuando era niño lloraba

No entendia la noche

Que tiene un dulce aroma de tierra pisada por las pajaros,

Y ahora no entiendo la muerte,

Aunque sepa que es cuando la luz se abre en el infinito

Y los ojos dejan de llorar.


Although the body may fade


There is a mystery greater than my weeping and my sorrow.

What does darkness hide, what do shadows disguise?

When I was a boy I used to cry.

I did not understand night

With its sweet aroma of earth softly trodden by birds,

and now I do not understand death,

although I am aware that it is when light opens to infinity

and eyes cease weeping.

Quabbin Writers Launch Microbursts on December 9 in Easthampton

Joie us for the launch of Microbursts – the Quabbin Writer’s Salon’s Debut Anthology –

on Saturday, Dec. 9, 3:30 pm at White Square Books, 85 Cottage St., Easthampton, MA.

Epi Bodhi

D. Dina Friedman

Marianne Gambaro

Kathryn Holzman

Jane McPhetres Johnson

Eileen P. Kennedy

Maureen Solomon