Friday 5 May 2023

4 Poems by Kristin Roahrig

Ghost of a Photograph

Gray birds fly above the shoreline

Matching the rocks that jut from the waters at this unknown hour

One woman gazes out beyond the waters, lost

She stands out on the jagged rocks dressed loosely in black

In an instant the waves too have gone gray

Only the girl remains in a gown of black, gazing out to an image seen many years before

An image as if I’m looking at an old photograph

Another instant and she’s gone

She fades and the world has returned to it’s own colors of blue and fawns

All a ghost of a photograph

Disappearing into the colors of my own time

Originally published in the anthology Tic Toc


October arrives

like two women rushing in,

red hair streaming,

changing colors

wearing cloaks made of feathers

and branches scattering

leaves and shifting the world-

rusted hues, flowers brittle

strands of dry grass

snap- as overhead

one bird flies

Originally published in the anthology Brought to Sight and Swept Away

The Tree’s Lifelines

The tree and I stand- looking at each other

Roughened by elements

The trunk twists high above me

Lines etched in the bark follow the curves of the branches

Showing gaps within it’s skin

Full of spaces never filled

Or gaps such as mine carved out by others in my life

Holes never patched, only branches naked-

As am I, stripped clean for myself to see without prejudice

My hand unconsciously touches the gaps in my own skin, lined similar with the trees

The tree and I stand-considering

Originally published in Pyrokinection


Within the         embryo

anticipating it’s     birth

a body            drifts

pale, nearly             blue

hair rises                 above

fingers curling        emptiness

holding invisible     weight

balancing the          way

waiting, waiting     waiting


Kristin Roahrig's short stories and poetry have appeared in various publications. She is also the author of several plays and lives in Indiana.

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