portion of the artwork for Claire Scott's poem

Claire Scott

a rounding error
a sleep deprived technician with a six week old son
a myopic doctor who has misplaced his Armani glasses
surely it’s someone else’s report
perhaps a Mrs. Stanley (poor Mrs. Stanley
I hope she is at least ninety)
not mine, not me at only fifty-two
surely no angel paid minimum wage to watch over me
ready to tap my shoulder as the last few grains
trickle through the glassís narrow neck
a cold shudder shimmies my spine
surely not

Return to Archive

FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 50 | Fall/Winter 2017