Life and Death in January

Birds outside my window appear extra juicy
but I know they’re just fluffing their feathers
to fight the inevitable.

Moriarty leaves passive aggressive notes
for me in my bed or shoes if I don’t let him outside
despite a wind chill below zero.

Snow is more beautiful in the moonlight
even with a trail of paw prints interrupting
an ancient topology.

It’s winter and the truth is as bare as the branches.


(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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14 Responses to Life and Death in January

  1. Is Moriarty the cat? I really enjoyed the storytelling here. It took me a second read to find the prompt words because they were blended so seamlessly into the poem.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. This is clever and I like thinking the cat was Moriarty in the picture!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. johnlmalone's avatar johnlmalone says:

    magnificent !!! you’ve encapsulated a raw truth here . and that terrific last line …..

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Priti's avatar Priti says:

    Beautiful poem! Good description of the surrounding with birds! πŸ™„

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Stacey C. Johnson's avatar Stacey C. Johnson says:

    Ooooh! Biting truth for the biting cold. Love that last line!. : )

    Liked by 2 people

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