Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Let Me Do This Thing for You

Let Me Do This Thing for You

My coat, flung over the puddle.
Your shoes pushing into wool instead of mud.

The letter you do not want
to destroy, but do not want to see.
Give it to me.

The airport. Your early flight.
Just remind me if what you are doing
counts as arriving or departing.

The person you must speak to,
but cannot call, you dread it so much.

The room full of people
you do not know.
I will go with you.
We will learn their names.

Tissues and tea and transparent teal gelcaps.
Rationed appropriately.

Wrapping the plates and glasses
in newspaper. Removing them
and assigning them to cabinets.

The thing you made.
Looking at it alone,
and then with you.


  1. What a gift the speaker of this poem is! Love the title and premise so much. In times of grief, isn't that EXACTLY what we need? Someone to just HANDLE it. Wonderful.

  2. Charming collages from Lindsey Way. I wish she indicated the materials she's using.

    I especially like the third stanza of your poem. Very thought-provoking! I also like the ambiguity of the final stanza. I can read "the thing you made" as being oneself, which then really opens up the two concluding lines.

    How you handle the narrative shifts in this poem is fascinating, too.

  3. I love this is a delight when any one of those things happens to one. I am incredibly annoyed with the word verification of blogger, what is going on I wonder. Have a great one!

  4. You've done the impossible. You made me miss my marriage for a moment there. :-( My ex was very good about these sorts of things.

  5. Thoughtful stuff. Concluding verse reminded that I have a heart.


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