Matthew J. Hall

Snooker Ball

I have a fractured memory

of a quiet railroad track

where I found a snooker ball

it was red

after staring at it in my hand

I put it in my trouser pocket

I don’t remember 

what happened 

to that red snooker ball

I wish I still had it

in place of this fractured memory

of finding something beautiful

and failing to hold on to it

Cut the site strings

of flying dreams

watch them float away

into the heavens

where they resurrect

stars from coma;

who had dreams

of their own,

once

Woke

with a stomach

wet with regret

unpleasant memories

in tact

worse still

I was all set

to get dressed

and do it

all over again

Night Terror

colours of a sinking sun

spill onto the earth

final yet redemptive

like warm blood into battle ground

the star-scared sky

is a cold blanket

but hours only

keep the bird’s song away

Published 12-3-17

Matthew J. Hall has had poems and stories published in various mags, anthologies and online creative endeavors. His poetry chapbook, Pigeons and Peace Doves, is available through Blood Pudding Press. His poetry collection, The Human Condition is a Terminal Illness, is available through Bareback Press. He reviews small press books at www.screamingwithbrevity.com