Almost as if the stars were being blurred.
How the word decay sits and moans.
It wasn’t deliberate, I realize as I feel my head settle.
To leave things in other lives.
Like the flow of an avalanche or the thirst for all that the wind moves.
I’m trying to imply the word persistence.
So another time could begin, so emptiness could hold things.
Filling the white space while jasmine lingers in the air.
Barbara Berg has had poems published in In Posse Review, Lunch Ticket, Poemeleon, and Lady/Liberty/Lit. She’s attended the Tupelo Truchas Poetry Conference and the Napa Valley Writer’s Conference. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing in Poetry at Antioch University Los Angeles. She is a member of Women Who Submit and currently lives on indigenous Tongva land in Los Angeles.