Circle of Light by Carrie Farrar

The eucalyptus outside the apartment
keeps shedding strips of bark
the color of wet paper bags.
At midnight, the hallway light
buzzes softly through the screen door,
a yellow hum over the shoes
kicked sideways near the mat.
Somewhere down the block,
someone drags a trash bin to the curb,
the wheels catching in broken places
along the pavement.
The phone rests facedown
beside a glass of water gone warm
hours ago.
A moth keeps striking
the porch bulb,
powder gathering slowly
along the white rim.
The room smells faintly
of detergent and eucalyptus oil,
the blanket bunched heavy
around my knees.
Outside, the branches move
without pattern.
A car passes.
Then another.
The moth disappears
for several minutes
before returning again
to the same circle of light.



Carrie Farrar is a Southern California poet whose work has appeared in numerous literary journals and online publications. Her poetry often explores memory, domestic atmosphere, perception, and emotional recurrence through image-driven free verse.