Zephyr Of A Broken Lullaby Poem by Fred Rik Kesner

"Zephyr of the Broken Lullaby"


A draft comes
through the chink in the plaster,
lifting the corner of the calendar page
from three years back.

It carries no warmth,
no scent of clover or rain,
only the dry dust of the attic.

It pushes against the bedpost—
a single, flat note that repeats
until the ear grows numb.

Sleep comes not as a comfort,
but as a door swinging shut
against a hallway
where no one walks
anymore





.