Ephemeral Me

Her texts were once filled with emojis
smiling little faces β€” red hearts
arrived hourly

Now I’m lucky to get one a day
but I’m building a callous

I’m just the mayfly who forgot
to politely die in the twilight
of her affection


(for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt and Living Poetry’s Monday Prompt)

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About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
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18 Responses to Ephemeral Me

  1. Cassa Bassa's avatar Cassa Bassa says:

    Oh the last stanza is heartbreaking.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Sarah E Barker's avatar Sarah E Barker says:

    So sad. I like it.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Katie Frances Hartless's avatar K. Hartless says:

    Oh man. Yes. This is magnificent.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh, so beautiful, and poignant too. πŸ’

    Liked by 1 person

  5. berniebell1955's avatar berniebell1955 says:

    You’ve done it again – and a Mayfly is just right – dancing in the sun – skittering about – un-thinking – then – drops.

    I can’t help suggesting – a poem about being called Hartless, while having heart?

    Liked by 1 person

  6. berniebell1955's avatar berniebell1955 says:

    PS

    I put it straight in m’blog…..

    http://www.spanglefish.com/berniesblog/blog.asp?blogid=16310

    Liked by 1 person

  7. This conveys such truth. Well expressed.

    Liked by 1 person

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