Separate // Ways
by CLAIRE KROENING
Summer scorched // translucent wings
smelt in captured dusk-light.
Two souls wander rubble—
once called home // by cascading thunder,
now occupied by fog-blundered thrum;
where sun neglects, dressed in asphalt and sunder.
Two lovers, two strangers—
speak foreign tongue // by condensed brittle,
linger on mile-high route markers;
where old wounds exude, koselig¹ in corrupt kindling.
Winter glaciated // cornerstore flies,
their hands blurred separate ways.
¹Koselig — Norwegian for the feeling of comfort/warmth
Claire Kroening is an award-winning writer residing along the Great Lakes. Their work appears in a plethora of international literary publications including University of Baltimore’s Plork Press, Sunday Mornings at the River, The Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, Yin Literary, among others. When not working on their latest endeavors, they appreciate visiting art museums and exploring the coastlines. Connect with them on Instagram @clairerosek.