by Abby Cothran
it fades into darkness
here so quickly—
the wet sun melts
casts harsh light onto
snow-capped grass
replaced by a moon
i swear i haven’t seen
and every star
illuminates through cracks
in the sheet-rock sky
the sea is rough and dark
and falls hard against
the black sands underneath
i stand still, thinking:
i am nothing
and not even that
Abby Cothran is a graduate of Clemson University currently living in Austin, Texas where she is pursuing her MFA in creative writing at Texas State. Her print publications include The Chronicle and The City Quill.