Poem by JD DeHart


 

Cold Word

A cold word icely
spoken in another room
where voices were muffled,
could still be heard,
rising above the sound of copiers,
deadlines, calendars.
Overhearing seeps out,
it just happens,
juice from the fruit,
life from the wound.
These are heartaches and shocks,
not a new phrase,
applicable to one who was trusted,
then broke trust, crumbled
it to bits like a child crushing
crackers in chubby digit hands,
unaware of the damage.

 

Photography © Glenn Bowie

 

JD DeHart is a writer and teacher. His poetry has appeared at Gargouille and The Literary Yard, among other sites and journals.

Glenn Bowie is a published poet, lyricist and photographer from the Boston area. He also owns and operates an elevator company that supplies custom-built elevators for clients from New England to Hollywood. Author of two poetry and photograph collections (Under the Weight of Whispers and Into the Thorns and Honey) on Big Table Publishing, he donates all profits from his books to various charities for the homeless and local animal shelters. Glenn is also the official photographer for the Newton Writing and Publishing Center.

 

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