1

 

black night with steel.

the stench of death rising in mists

dark dirty death/birth pains.

 

i sit, stoned stomached

empty & numb from vomiting.

stars shift & blink, stare

at what is.  i still see

what was.

 

         2

 

no food this morning.

 

snow is

falling, smoothing

broken contours.

tonight i will try

to sleep with cardboard

boxes in a broken

-windowed room.

 

         3

 

can’t

sleep.  the wind

gnaws my skin like rats.

something i don’t

see bites my leg.

 

i huddle with boxes.

slow electricity

in my leg, hot

against cold concrete.

 

 

         4

 

sunlight.  white

over white. nothing

to hear in snow.  numbness

touches my shoulder.

am i hot, cold?

i cannot rise like

the sun.

 

my head is full of

the sun’s fire.     the sun.

by Robin Wyatt Dunn, with Stable Diffusion                             

Peter Roberts is a mathematically educated poet who sometimes writes fiction. He has been publishing for more than 45 years. Find links to his published poems & stories at www.god-and-country.info/personal.html.