Hush

Like the color of thunder
or the taste of a song
be like the snow falling
at midnight in the woods
where Robert Frost stopped
then chose to keep going

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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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9 Responses to Hush

  1. trE's avatar trE says:

    “Color of thunder.”
    “Taste of a song.”

    I love what you did here, Bart! This is stellar writing!

    Liked by 3 people

  2. trE's avatar trE says:

    You’re most welcome! I agree! It’s a solid poem.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Beautiful!! You can almost hear the hush of the snow.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Michele Lee's avatar Michele Lee says:

    I’ve enjoyed lingering in this spot. ❄️ Thank you, Bart.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Hush is such a perfect term for a night snowfall. Love the synesthesia in the first few lines. Delightfully tasty.

    Liked by 2 people

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