The New Purgatory By Ann Christine Tabaka

Crossing the border / leaving home.

Not knowing when she will return,

or if she will return. Fear nips at her

heels. A line of people huddled tightly

against the elements / await transport

to refuge. Making polite conversations,

they try to forget their grief. 

In the distance a whistle blows, 

shattering the night. Climbing on board /

looking back at a scattering of lives upon 

an empty street. Books, clothing, toys, 

forgotten treasures / strewn about like so

many discarded dreams. Closing her eyes

she tries to sleep / leaving purgatory behind.

Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She is the winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year, her bio is featured in the “Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020 and 2021,” published by Sweetycat Press. She is the author of 15 poetry books, and 1 short story book. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and four cats. Her most recent credits are: The Phoenix; Eclipse Lit, Carolina Muse, Sand Hills Literary Magazine, Ephemeral Literary Review, The Elevation Review, The Closed Eye Open, North Dakota Quarterly, Tangled Locks Journal, Wild Roof Journal, The American Writers Review, Black Moon Magazine, Pacific Review, The Silver Blade, Pomona Valley Review, West Texas Literary Review