Walls, purpled by shadows
Lonely as the glass half empty
And the familiar ghosts of boredom,
Birds without the vibrant wings of flight,
A picture framed,
Life, frozen, confined,
For a moment.
The cigarette he smokes
Everything in this room
Is dulled by blue edges, cold.
Even the faint flickers of light,
The spots that shine,
Are more silver than gold.
After the dishes have been cleared,
And the sun has already tipped its hat
Below the horizon,
The embers of day scattered beneath the stars,
Uncertainty sets in.
Everyone is left to their thoughts,
Restless minds in the dim corridors of ennui,
A compressed space.
Wilted flowers, they wait for direction,
For the sun to rise again.
Kathryn Sadakierski’s writing has appeared in The Bangor Literary Journal, The Ekphrastic Review, Teachers of Vision, Dime Show Review, and elsewhere. She graduated summa cum laude from Bay Path University in Longmeadow, Massachusetts with her Bachelor of Arts degree, and is currently pursuing her Master of Science degree.