For Grief by Bartholomew Barker

The aloe bloomed as soon as I was alone
in the hospital elevator, surprising
with the intensity of its flower.

Spikes erupted like little cat teeth
along the margins of my life—
the spiny burr of a chestnut
because there is no justice.

But some days even the rain stops
and cracks appear in the clouds.

The blossom wilts and fades
though soothing memories still flow
through succulent leaves.

I admire a lily in my neighbor's garden
and hours pass before the pang.

About the Poet:

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2021 & 2025 as well as the Best of the Net Anthology in 2024. His work has appeared in The Lake, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Panoply, Tipton Poetry Journal, the Gyroscope Review and the Naugatuck River Review among others.