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Samantha’s Daily Poem

July 30, 2011

Baby deer

Baby deer
eyes wide open
your head nods up and down
on the waves
so that it looks like
you are still alive
saying yes yes
don’t worry, mama
I can make it
I can swim a little
don’t go too fast
I am right
behind you.

July 29, 2011

A mission

I like a mission
a purpose to my errands
that infuses them
with tenacity.

A white frame
in an odd size
a travel alarm clock
not made in China
a second-hand anything
in chartreuse.

I am aware
this hunting is a symptom
of brewing discontent
an escape
a release
a suspension
of the deeper me.

But it is consuming
all the same
in a strangely

July 28, 2011

Devoid of wit

An effect
almost an allergy
in her presence
I am rendered
of wit.
She is not
the only one
some people drain
my thoughts
I mumble and clunk
I am dim
I slosh around my brain
and find there is nothing
to say.
You are not
like that.
I see your name light up
my call display
and I am
to vigour.
I am chasing my ego
but sometimes we need to run
to remember
the rush
of being alive.

July 27, 2011


He clutches the bookmark
a set of keys
the old remote control
my mom found
at the recycling depot

teaching me

it is possible
to cherish

July 26, 2011

The desk

The desk
a snarl of items
the shame
of dirty plates
each one
a story
a decision
together they are
a hulking body
of debris.

She is frozen
the objects
so daunting
like an orphanage
of abandoned faces.

The evening is quiet
husband away
baby asleep
if only the mess
wasn’t so distracting
how is it that lifeless
things make such
a racket?

A moment of bluster
she yanks a magazine
from the edge of the pile
five months old
one of those literary kind
you hope people will catch
you reading
she opens it to confirm
what she knows is true
it will not change her life
it must go.

She feels galvanized
radiant, even.

She will conquer
the mountain.

She is clearly
on a roll.

It is late
when she closes
the magazine
tea cup empty
but still warm.
It has been so long
since she read a magazine
cover to cover.
She looks at the thicket
that litters the desk
it looks bigger
and she waits for the clench
of regret
but all she feels
is the deep satisfaction
of her small

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