Overhead
by Wren Donovan
Overhead, an afternoon of grey sky.
Cicadas again, and clouds of wet newspaper.
Emptiness waiting for you
to fill with your neediness, penetrate
with your cost, so you will be happy
which is easier for me.
I can be happy
with whir of cicadas and white light
that reminds me of childhood
blank rooms with overhead lighting
flat shadows and angles and me
on a canopied bed, pink shadows
under curtainless windows.
Wren Donovan (she/her) lives in Tennessee. Her poetry can be found in Poetry South, Rust + Moth, Orca, The Shore, Cumberland River Review, Fahmidan, and elsewhere including WrenDonovan.com. Wren studied at Millsaps College, UNC-Chapel Hill, and University of Southern Mississippi. When not writing, she reads Tarot cards, history books, and fairy tales. Find her on Bluesky.
