by Corinne Chronopoulos
I felt the phantom pains of a baby in my womb.
My imagined pregnancy was like an early reaping caused by storm.
The desperate harvest strewn on the kitchen floor.
My raised voice,
fruitless accomplishments,
and now bleeding I feel barren.
The meager harvest in,
the yield measured,
not a thing to do but recount.
Corinne Chronopoulos is a native of New Hampshire and a graduate of the University of New Hampshire. She has served as a public librarian for over eight years and is a champion of books, readers, and writers. Corinne has been writing poetry since she was seven years old.
Smoky Quartz 