by Sam Barbee
< Now they are all Borg… >
— The Borg Queen
We are all a season, a day, a next whisper,
a quiver in the pane.
Today like no-other, yes-other, another
Meet me there where you walk to recover, where
we were to walk tomorrow.
Curses unfused, undone by new words to un-bless,
un-spelled, re-spelled, new-spelled.
Resistance all-feigned: futile, fertile, infertile,
while before the next while.
© 2022 Sam Barbee
Sam Barbee has a new collection, Apertures of Voluptuous Force (2022, Redhawk Publishing). He has three previous poetry collections, including That Rain We Needed (2016, Press 53), which was a nominee for the Roanoke-Chowan Award as one of North Carolina's best poetry collections of 2016.
Find more by Sam Barbee in the Author