Weary, micropoetry written by Beth Tremaglio at Spillwords.com

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Beth Tremaglio·August 5, 2021

Poetry English

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Weary

written by: Beth Tremaglio

@TremaglioBeth

The sun cast herself upon the moon,
none could see
the shadows bent an angel’s wings
she fell upon the earth.

About
Latest Posts

Beth Tremaglio

JULY 2016 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com

Finding my way back to myself through writing and climbing.
Musings
Randomness of thoughts
Writing words, letting them live through me

Latest posts by Beth Tremaglio (see all)

Breeding Hunger - September 26, 2023
Cultivating Poverty - May 23, 2023
Pale - January 29, 2023

Suman Pokhrel

Suman Pokhrel is a Nepali poet, lyricist, playwright, translator, and artist. He debuted in 1999 with a poetry collection and has since published works, including translations of Shakespeare and global poets. His poems are translated into many languages and taught across South Asia. A two-time SAARC Literary Awardee, he also received Asia’s Inspiring Poet Award and was named Author of the Month by Spillwords in June 2023. Beyond literature, he works as a freelance consultant in socio-economic research, rural development, entrepreneurial development and creative writing. He began his career in Nepal’s civil service and later worked with international NGOs. He holds degrees in Science, Law, Business Administration, and Economics.

Condoms by Seán Óg Ó Murchú

They all laughed at me. All the dinner ladies. It started with your one, I’m after forgetting her name now… Smelly Nelly’s ma. A wet little tear trickled toward her tattooed cheekbone. She was roaring red. Her harsh, wheezing laughter sounded like a black taxi tackling the Whiterock Road, her throat destroyed from all the fegs she used to be hoofing into her. She called over the other dinner ladies then, an army of them. Or maybe it was the curiosity of her horrid laughing that brought them over… I can’t remember.
“Tell the girls what you’re only after asking me there ni wee mawn.”
I looked between herself and the girls. Jesus Christ, I said in my own mind, Mental Mick is after stealing all my crayons that I’d been hoarding for myself there before the break...

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