Poems
Because I Love You
-for my mother
Because I love you—
and wanted you to stay with us—
I decided not to tell you
about our recent mouse infestation.
—
People, Not Things
When we started dating, my CDs were
grouped by genre, in alphabetical
order. There wasn’t a scratch in the mix.
My books—treasures all—were also
meticulously maintained: no ripped
dust jackets on the hardcovers,
no dinged-up corners on the paperbacks.
The first time she asked to borrow one
she saw me hesitate—but there was
no hesitation in her reply: “People,
not things,” she said.
She said it only once, but her eyes
repeated: “People, not things.”
She was right.
—
Another Example of Why English Can Be a Difficult Language to Learn
What one man describes
as decisive and efficient,
his wife might describe as
we never talked about that.
—
What “In Retrospect…” Sounds Like
Put-put-put-put-putting the
CD player on the bottom shelf
(where the kids could reach it)
was a ba-ba-ba-ba-bad idea.
—
Sometimes at Sunrise
Sometimes at sunrise
the clouds in the east are
a wall of mountains.
Today they are covered with
snow and transport me to
Alaska, a place I’ve never been.
I imagine a frozen river nearby
where a boy sits in silence with
his father or uncle, learning
subtle things about ice fishing
and manhood,
in a shack that doesn’t warm them
but keeps the wind at bay.
—
The Cactus in the Dining Room
No one waters
the cactus
in the dining room.
Its proliferation
of new shoots
is a mystery.
Soon
it will need
a bigger pot.
—
Clouds
The way the clouds
are filling the sky today,
I do not understand how anyone
could be at war with anyone.
