{"id":2080,"date":"2013-02-08T02:17:36","date_gmt":"2013-02-08T02:17:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2080"},"modified":"2013-02-08T02:17:36","modified_gmt":"2013-02-08T02:17:36","slug":"samantha-seto","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/samantha-seto\/","title":{"rendered":"Samantha Seto"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Note to Beloved<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>My note travels across the room, past mobs of people,<br \/>\nit reaches his hands, before he slips it into trash.<br \/>\nMy face flushes purple, anger rages, heart pounds.<\/p>\n<p>In our timed and untimed arrivals,<br \/>\npulleys to the elevator ascend.<br \/>\nCasually late, mail travels over double doors,<br \/>\nlong-distance calls at international airport.<\/p>\n<p>Room dealt black and red deck of cards,<br \/>\ncheap perfume, left messages in parlors, postcard view.<br \/>\nSecrets packages turn to ash, eroding in canopies of dust,<br \/>\nmeant for those far away.<\/p>\n<p>Luggage tags, passports, travel haze.<br \/>\nAirplanes depart, passengers run to climb aboard,<br \/>\nshuttle to hidden magic at entrance.<\/p>\n<p>Lines of travelers, past crowds of colorless blur,<br \/>\nangled mirrors, static of an old radio.<br \/>\nCrossword puzzles, smell of airborne sickness,<br \/>\nleft waiting for him at gate 64.<\/p>\n<p>He stares at me, tears flood my eyes,<br \/>\noverwhelmed at the moment, peppermint scent.<br \/>\nVoice clings in bitterness to my throat,<br \/>\nsearch for the words to release.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Samantha Seto has been published in various anthologies including Ceremony, Soul Fountain, Carcinogenic Poetry, and Black Magnolias Journal. She is a third prize poetry winner of the Whispering Prairie Press contest.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Note to Beloved My note travels across the room, past mobs of people, it reaches his hands, before he slips it into trash. My face flushes purple, anger rages, heart pounds. In our timed and untimed arrivals, pulleys to the elevator ascend. Casually late, mail travels over double doors, long-distance calls at international airport. Room [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2080","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v24.2 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Samantha Seto - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/samantha-seto\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Samantha Seto - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Note to Beloved My note travels across the room, past mobs of people, it reaches his hands, before he slips it into trash. 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