Nine Poems by Abby Kahn



Soft and melancholy,
With the grace of a child
Its limbs scattered past my reflection
Pitter pattering along the edge of silence
A measly break for another drought
I will wait until it comes again, and again,
And again

‘Pancakes at Grandmas’

There’s syrup on the floor
It trapped me in it’s web
I know it’s maple because my joints ache
I’ve been here since last tuesday

‘Luna Friend’

Moths chew at my eyelids
My ears have become too warm for them
I like having company

‘A Rose Is A Rose Is A Pen’

The last time I cried at an empty diner was Tuesday
My waitresses name was Wendy
She had coral lipstick on her teeth
I didn’t bother to tell her
I was handed a rose to sign my paycheck

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