by Dawn Fryauff
No life bears forth from this desert.
No seed takes root in this place.
Be fruitful and multiply is
A promise, but instead
My failure punctuated
Deep contractions of longing
Birthing sand and scorched seed
From this withered waste of a womb
Hollow within a body
Expanded only by gluttony.
No refreshment flows from these springs.
Ashes and dust fill the fleshy bags atop
This chest once
Jeremiah spoke of plans for
Hope and a future.
Though I see no future.
I see only
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing, SNHU Student