Positioned

https://jhurlbert.com/

Positioned neatly on your
simple shelf of reality, so
do I sit, dangling over
the edge of that wooden

mind, beakening you to
return and enfold me in
your arms, wrap tight
the empty naked space

I have become; before
the tears fold through
shuttered eyes and fall
down into that other

world, where my weeping
will go unheard, in this
drop from great heights,
to unfeeling oblivion.

https://dversepoets.com/2019/06/18/meet-jackie-hurlbert/

Fret

Anxious, alarmed, grimly

haunted, so does the heart

fret, as time plays sorrow’s

song, demanding that the

fingers be placed just so,

across the bars of cold

memory; sounding bitter

notes of hope, reflected

in bleak, stark shadow

lines across mind’s sad,

sullen symphony. 

https://dversepoets.com/2019/06/17/quadrille-82-fretboard-of-poetry/

Wintering

as the days breathe chilled
air through the cracks of
hours, so do we settle
into the chest of Winter,

pulling close to its slow
beat, huddling to warm
moments, nestling into
hibernation of soul, and

frosted self; such is the
way of it when this
season calls and holds
us to its ancient breast.