Emile Pinet

A Barren Place

I was born in a small town, (Bathurst) New Brunswick, Canada,. The third eldest of thirteen children, ten girls and three boys. I’m the product of a semi-dysfunctional family, brought up by a controlling, physically abusive father, verses a loving mother. Many of my poems reflect the uniqueness and…






There is no rain on the moon,
flowing rivers or blue seas.
A drab and colorless globe,
with not so much as a breeze.

There is no air there to breath,
no green trees or fields of snow.
A desolate desert, with
no chance life will ever show.

There is no diversity,
just dust wherever you look.
A boring, bleak, barren place,
that time long ago forsook.

And yet it looks beautiful,
hung in an ebony sky.
And when it melds with our hearts,
there's no need to question why.

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