New Poem

We missed February (well it was short and snowy, what can I say?), but I have high hopes for March.

I thought I'd just post my brand newest poem, which is always a risky venture, but it has been vetted by my brand newest writing partner. We meet Monday mornings and share whatever's presentable or new and exciting. So here it is, after one round of revisions. Thoughts and comments are welcome and appreciated.

Happy almost-Spring!!
jk


In The Moment Before The Teacup Hits the Floor, I Think of Lao Tzu

Just like that I dropped it
almost like I meant to do it
the teacup from my grandfather’s house

It probably belonged to my grandmother,
though. It was an M. A. Hadley,
sort of special, not too fancy, just homey.

In fact, there was a picture of a little home
painted on it in blues and greens.
The cloud next to the little home

was loopy and swirly in its porcelain sky.
At the bottom of the cup, it said,
“The End.”

I was thinking all of this as I mourned
for that little cup,
on its way down, containing

a column of clear air,
cupping cups-full in infinitely
minute spaces of time and then

letting each go, infinitely.
I suppose I felt a small—tiny, imperceptible maybe—
surge of relief as it smashed

a satisfying noise and a satisfying
pattern: the shards exploded radially
as petals from their stamen.

“Oh wait!” I said, trying to ward off
my oncoming thirteen month old daughter
“Wait! Mommy needs to clean this up.”

But she didn’t listen. “Uh-oh,”
she said. “I know, it’s sad,” I said.
“Hug,” she said, and did.

For a moment, I held two big pieces
together, contemplating crazy glue
but I didn’t want to be reminded

of my failure to hold on
or of my grandfather’s gap-toothed mouth
so I dropped the pieces

into a plastic bag and tied them up tight
so as not to cut the hands
of the men who collect our trash.