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Spring Went Dark Contest
Atishoo!
There go the dandelions… flying away dramatically as if they have rent to pay and places to be. Meanwhile, here I am—still not a spring woman. Not the kind who suddenly forgives life, drinks floral tea, and posts “new
season, new me” just because the calendar says Spring 2026 has arrived.
Why should we abandon our grief at the doorstep of March, April, May, or June? Why must sadness suddenly become socially unacceptable because flowers have started blooming and everyone else has switched their playlists to cheerful acoustic music? Some of us carry winter a little longer. Some of us arrive late to spring.
And perhaps that’s the beauty of it. Spring does not ask for performance. It doesn’t require us to smile with all thirty-two teeth showing. You can sit quietly in your backyard, or in a tiny apartment with questionable
lighting and excellent overthinking skills, listening to cuckoos and bluebirds while watching wildflowers dance beneath an amaranthine sky. You can feel dark inside and still celebrate. You can raise a glass—to survival, confusion, missed opportunities, unresolved texts, and that one person you definitely should not have replied to. Whether your poison is green tea or vodka with cranberry juice, spring does not discriminate. Which brings us to this anthology.
This season, we asked our writers to write on the theme: Spring Went Dark. Interesting, isn’t it? Because somewhere across the world, there is someone watching sunlight pour through their window and still feeling absolutely nothing. Someone carrying heartbreak into blooming gardens. Someone wondering if they are the only person not having a cinematic spring awakening. They are not. This anthology exists for them. Inside Spring Went Dark, you will discover poems and short stories written by carefully selected writers from different corners of the world—each bringing their own strange, beautiful, unsettling interpretation of spring. Here, blossoms carry secrets. Birdsong feels suspicious. Renewal arrives with baggage. Hope flickers instead of shining confidently. This theme is not about darkness alone. It is about contrast. The
uncomfortable space between blooming and breaking. Between joy and grief. Between becoming and being completely unsure of what you are becoming. Within these pages, you may find:
• A spring that never arrived
• Beauty hiding something quietly unsettling
• Love blooming… but with consequences
• Nature becoming unfamiliar, even threatening
So welcome to Spring Went Dark. PS- Do support us; we’re trying to do something good in this big, commercialised and mean world today. Do visit our Editorial Page.
With regards,
Ruchi Acharya
Wingless Dreamer Founder
Shh... The Spring Went Dark's winner has been anointed
A standing ovation to all the global poets and readers across the world to make this publication possible.
The grand winner of the contest Spring Went Dark is
SPRING’S LAST BLOOM - ALEXANDRA GRANT
A 58-year-old wife and mother, Alexandra Grant, makes her home in Wichita, Kansas. Her background as an American with Argentine and German parents gives her a broad, diverse outlook. Alexandra writes passionately about life's challenges and her experiences, eager to connect with others by sharing her inner thoughts and feelings. An avid reader, she also practices amateur art and writes poetry, fiction, and non-fiction. She and her family find great joy in exploring new places, meeting diverse people, and cherishing moments together, both at home and abroad. Alexandra has been featured online and in print in publications by Poet’s Choice, Half and One, Wingless Dreamer, WILDsound, story-pitches.com, festivalforpoetry.com, Vocal Media, Patreon, Medium, Substack, YouTube.com, The Write Launch, Grande Dame Literary, and The College of Western Idaho.
Cue the confetti for our first runner-up:
OLIVE TREES - LARA DOLPHIN
A descendant of immigrants, Lara Dolphin lives with her family among the Allegheny Mountains of Central Pennsylvania on the ancestral land of the Susquehannock/Iroquois people. She has written three chapbooks: In Search Of The Wondrous Whole, Chronicle Of Lost Moments, and At Last a Valley. She, like countless others, hopes for a world filled with greater peace.
Thuds of claps for our second runner-up
THINGS - ANN PRIVATEER
Ann Privateer is an artist, photographer, and poet. She grew up in the Midwest and now lives in California. Some of her recent work has appeared in Third Wednesday and Voices to name a few.
A big round of applause - Here are our top finalists:
PSALM OF THE FRACTURED EARTH - C. WILLIAM CARROLL
C. William Carroll is an unpublished poet from Scranton, Pennsylvania, whose work is forged from the same hard terrain that shaped him. Writing in the tradition of the working earth — quarried stone, river mud, blistered hands — Carroll’s poetry resists polish in favor of truth. His poems do not ornament; they rupture. Drawing on a spirituality rooted in wolves and lichen, in grandmother’s trailers and cracked tin, he treats the personal as sacred without asking permission. For Carroll, metaphor carries calluses, and rhythm is something earned, not inherited. A voice that refuses the velvet cage of easy sentiment, he writes as an act of geological necessity — cracking open whatever light has been compressed by pressure and time. He is sharp. He is sediment in upheaval. He is still becoming.
WHAT FED THE FLOWERS - CAILEY H. WILLIAMS
Cailey H. Williams is a graduate of the University of North Alabama. Her work has appeared in Flash Phantoms, The Phoenix, The Sucarnochee Review, and the WILDsound Writing Festival. She writes atmospheric fiction and poetry and is currently working on her debut novel. More of her work can be found on her website at: https://caileylhart1003.wixsite.com/caileyhwilliams
ABANDONED VINEYARD - PATRICK TROMBLY
Patrick Trombly re-emerged as a publishing poet in 2025. His poems and stories have been published or are forthcoming in a variety of journals including Roanoke Review, Connecticut River Review, Resonance, 1922 Review and The Closed Eye Open, and have appeared in several anthologies including Wingless Dreamer anthologies. Patrick lives in New York City.
And heartfelt congratulations to all our selected contributors who made it to this anthology. Cheers!
SPRING, WITH TEETH - HOLLY KEEHN
TURBULENCE - JENNIFER WEIGEL
SKY FACE - GABRIEL MCLEOD
SPRING, EVENTUALLY - CODY SWOBODA
HURRICANE - A.J. CHILSON
WILD THYME - NICHOLAS BALDWIN
THE PIOUS PIMP OF SAN SEBASTIÁN - ADNAN ADNAN
ON UNSETTLEMENT - SONIA BHOJANI
THE WRONG SPRING - ANN THORRSON
COLD SPELL - DANIELLE
A STRANGER TO SPRINGTIME - VEEKSHA SAKLANI
FLOWERS TO CEMETERY GATES - TERRY BRINKMAN
FIRST SPRING - JESSICA HANSEN
SNOWDROPS - LindaAnn LoSchiavo
PERSEPHONE NEVER CAME HOME - ALICE MORELAND
KLARA - LINDSAY FLORE
THE CAGE - EMMA WELLS
SECOND HAND LOW CHOICES - TRAVIS STEPHENS
CAFÉ APHRODITE - MICHAEL TEMPEST MICHENER
IN THE ECHO OF PRESENCE - JOHN HUNTER
LIKE SALT ON A SLUG - M.L. TUCKER
I AM EXPANDING THE MARTIAN CHRONICLES - LINA BUIVIDAVIČIŪTĖ
CAT AND LEMON TREE - CASSADY O’REILLY- HAHN
COMPOSE YOURSELF - GINA NOBILE
DREAMS OF THE LAST DAYS - LEOTIS LAMAR HARGROVE
NEST - JIMMY SAEKKI
THERE ARE FLOWERS BY THE WINDOW - DARIA GERMON
LAKESIDE AT DUSK - GAVIN BOURKE
PHASES - PATRICIA CARRASQUILLO
BETWEEN BLOSSOMS AND ASHES - TETIANA YATSECHKO- BLAZHENKO
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER - MUJEEB AZAD
GLACIAL GOTHIC DREAMS - SARA GOTTARDI
TELL US - LU LIU
THE OPENING - SUZZANE KOVACK
SUNNY COUNTRIES - ALANA O’KEFFE
A VOID - SOPHIA FALCO
WHAT THE FROST HIDES - ASHOK JAHAGIRDAR
THE WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT - JOHN M. DAVIS
THORNS OF A ROSE - RAY NORDYKE
WORTH IT - KAVYA PRAVEEN
THE DARK SIDE OF THINGS - SARA DAVIS
WHEN SPRING FEELS LIKE FROST - MEG TAYLOR
A MAN WITH A RAKE - KENNETH M. KAPP
SURVIVAL - SWANANDI RAJENDRA PUNSE
APRIL - MICHAEL S. WALKER
FLOWER - TATUM BLATTEAU
DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR A MARCH LIKE THIS - JAYLEE SORENSON
CHRONICLE OF A FAILURE FORETOLD - RAFAEL VAZQUEZ QUINTERO
NATURE’S DENIAL - GIOANNA (ROMANO) DASCH
MINKE - JULIA PILKINGTON
THE HOUR OF DISQUIETIOUS THOUGHTS - SUE ANNE BORDWELL
Congratulations from the Wingless Dreamer Editorial Team. Keep dreaming. Keep writing. Never ever give up on your dreams. Be a Wingless Dreamer.
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