"Barren" by Kelly Sauvage Moyer

Barren

This night,
'kin to no other,
my pouch
remains clean,
albeit empty.

Ha! Le her,
the witching hour,
deem grief a poet.

I am nothing
but a wombat
in mourning.

Originally published in Disturb the Universe, May 16, 2025

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∴ gridlock grip radios rage harsh horns blameless invisible hitchhiker riding shotgun with their baby’s spirochete-shaped toys no hoarder of keepsakes yet these toys remain unbidden, in the car’s confines navigation fogged voices speaking foreign lost in tongues unknown a throng of commuters thundering past a stampede of haste temperature spikes engine protesting overheating in defiance tires wearing thin tread fading fast inch by weary inch angry gestures fly as vehicles creep by their impatience palpable brakes fail a screeching wail sqreeeeeeee head-on collision a breath. a release a moment’s caress of this chaos a minor delay homeward bound. soon i’ll be on my way ∴ https://poetryandphoto.wordingway.com/?s=Spiro

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