From the trees and power lines,
they survey deserted streets
like the Morrigan before a battle,
their harsh laughter echoes.
I should remain in my hermitage
but it’s a stunning spring Saturday
made strange by the absence of people—
the deep breath before the plunge.
Did some dark winged muse summon this plague
to extend winter— keep me in my den
because I failed to write enough poetry?
And will these verses spare the scythe
and be lamb’s blood for my gracious parents
over their door this twisted Passover?
Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry readers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017.
Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit. You can read more of his writing at Bartholomew Barker, Poet