I’m writing a poem,
waiting for an image
to lead me on while eating
Greek yogurt…No, can’t
do both at the same time.
Now I am writing a poem,
my eyes closed…………….
A snapping turtle. I’m falling
asleep. No, I must do this.
Why did Socrates drink
hemlock? Maybe if I lie down…
Got it! Helpless worms who
drown in a downpour. And
unsuspecting turkeys who raise
their heads, drink the rain and
die. I didn’t use to know that.
Of course! My offstage image
has arrived: water. . . Tears.
No wonder it took me so long to
recall New Zealand, Parkland,
Jumal Khashoggi, refugees,
children in cages, climate change
and the raccoon who was tortured
to death in my hometown. And no,
I shed no tears for the devil.
Nan