Alone

An echo of pure sadness
resounds in the stillness
while the night pines dance
without you

Moving On

Sad music on the radio,
Crimson lipstick on the wine glass,
Your heart in my hands.

One More

He knew she wasn't the type of broad
you took home to mother
but he slammed the glass down harder
this time
before he poured the bourbon straight up
into the motel glass
and then the back of his throat
wishing he'd never met the raven haired girl
who had looked so beautiful lying there
with the green neon sign blinking on and off
while he watched her sleep
before she left
he wiped his mouth with his rough flannel shirt
and poured one more for the road

Elizabeth Crocket writes short fiction, poetry and haiku. She has had short fiction published in Ascent Aspirations, RKVRY online journal, and haiku published in Roadrunner online journal. She has a diploma in Addication Education from McMaster University.

Email: Elizabeth Crocket

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