“boyd”
Claire EA Fiedler
2025

The ice machine hums for no one.
The pool holds only leaves.
A broken hinge, a missing curtain,
I've lost my only keys.

The television plays only static
The air conditioner a mere fan.
My window is dusty, the door hinge rusty,
The bedspread, once vibrant, now only faded and tan.

The lamp light flickers, fluttering to its end.
The roof somewhat sturdy, but the bathroom faucet leaks.
An empty line, the closet rail, holds hangers looking frail.
It's no wonder I haven't been occupied in weeks.

-A Poem by Room 6