Samantha’s Daily Poem
How I make my living
I make my living hunting
for invisible objects
helping people rappel
down into their pasts
to fish around
for old smells and lovers
sometimes they find more
than they bargained for
I warn them
but they fall
to their knees anyway
to be met
by the ghost
of their younger selves
reeking of carelessness
for their tiny fragile life.
The warm quiet
I just heard about them
the dogs they assign to veterans
whose hands used to twitch so much
they couldn’t tie their shoes
but now those hands
bury their memories
in the warm quiet
of a gentle dog
and what made me cry
wasn’t what the soldier
had seen and done
or the way he grits his mind
just to get out of bed
or how he could breathe again
permitting himself to believe
his dog was watching his back
keeping him safe
what made me cry
was how his dog was trained
taught to sense when his friend is angry
to whimper
and not stop
until he feels those hands
on his back
petting him slowly
the two of them
soothing each other.
Tulip
Your head
flung back
mouth wide
stamen quivers
like lungs
are you calling
down the sky
or sending sonnets
upward.
April Fool
It’s early in the morning
and your dad sends you in
with absurd tales
of a car parked in the house
and elephant purchases
each time
he tells you to say
April Fool’s
but you don’t know
about months yet
so instead you yell
pineapple
after each trick
as though you
are confident
you have improved
upon the punch line.
Their small worlds
There are hundreds of plants
that have sprouted out of the mud
behind our cabin
green as apples
smooth and proud
they remind me
of the children
born every day
into impossible lives
they don’t know it yet
their small worlds
still taut with hope and trust
their eyes are closed
and they don’t know
their mothers haven’t returned
they just keep waiting
forgiving
expecting
the love
they deserve.
