In the end we die.

In the meantime

dust collects in corners.

I offer the folds of my brain

as burrows for snakes and rabbits.

I keep Band-Aids in back pockets

for when the disasters come.

Reminders not everything

is fixable.

 

I book hotel rooms and make

the unfixable sleep with the already fixed.

Their noise keeps me up in the room next door.

 

In the end we die.

Until then I will not chase

the rabbits from their burrows.

 

 Hillary Kobernick is currently finishing her Master’s of Divinity in Atlanta. Her poetry has appeared in The Write Room, Third Wednesday, and Big Lucks. In her spare time, she makes cookies out of vegetables. Her work can always be found at hillarykobernickpoetry.tumblr.com.