Three Poems by Peg Robarchek

 

Rental Property

I want to paint that wall purple,

watch how the sun

changes it throughout the day

here in this ragged light.

 

Learn whether it leaves the room

melancholy in late afternoon,

wakes it to tenderness

in a pink dawn.

 

See if the dark color

hides cracks

that do not even belong

to me.

 

Eavesdropping on 10-B

Their voices

leak through the plaster,

too soft to decipher, sibilants

melting into vowels, muffled strands

of an old song, the cadence of a rising moan.

 

Sometimes the old crow

beats its wings

into emeralds,

hammers its beak

into a flute,

ceases to caw,

trills, and we believe

our throats

are rubies.

 

About the Author:

Peg Robarchek is a novelist, journalist, podcaster and poet living in Charlotte, North Carolina. Her poetry has been published in various journals, including Naugatuck River Review, Rust + Moth, Prime Number and Iodine.