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Iryna Hall Poem
I read the signs
Like printed words:
You aren’t mine,
You’re just a flirt,
We don’t align,
Our quatrains hurt
In seven lines.
Copyright © Iryna Hall | Year Posted 2026
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Iryna Hall Poem
bereavement
of beauty:
best
bodies
become
broken
bottles
Copyright © Iryna Hall | Year Posted 2026
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Iryna Hall Poem
I still recall
The miles I flew
That ancient fall:
The gold, the blue
Throughout my flight,
Through wind and dust,
Through skyward height.
And now I must
Re-coil my spring,
Re-beak my mouth,
Re-grow a wing,
And head on south.
Copyright © Iryna Hall | Year Posted 2026
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Iryna Hall Poem
To have and to hold—
In: sickness and health
In: good times and awful terrible times
In: spite of a coworker
who challenges my very decrepit paradigm
with a new world
who sends lightning bolts down my spine
by touching me in passing
who changes my mind-life-soul forever
—Till death do us part
Copyright © Iryna Hall | Year Posted 2026
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Iryna Hall Poem
Deals in a bookstore are the steals
I hoard on bookshelves—dull old stories
I borrow from a boring book.
Look at my life—an open book
That begs for life support and steals
Each day, each night as hum-drum stories.
I worry that my forty stories—
The high-rise building of my book—
Are just as cheap as all my steals.
My life steals stories from a book.
Copyright © Iryna Hall | Year Posted 2026
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