Today's poem is by Bonnie Proudfoot

Post-Mortem
       

Spring,
and I have begun killing.

Dark carpenter bee, trapped
against the window, spider,

crawling up my bare leg. I
murdered both.

Without me, things build unseen
cities, find more fitting ends.

Without me, birds have
something to sing about.

I won't last.

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Copyright © 2024 Bonnie Proudfoot All rights reserved
from Twelve Mile Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission