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that place in myself Another note begins with the word “Unfortunately.”
But given the last string of rejections, my body registers the news
with hardly a tremor. There is, even, a sort of ridiculousness when
“We’re rooting for you” appears in the penultimate line. I imagine
a cheerleading squad with pompoms at half-mast, the game
already a blowout. Did I, as they claim, really trust them with my work?
And is this truly not the outcome, as they suggest, I would have hoped for?
Elsewhere, Mother Nature is keeping her promises: mud puddles, moss,
the return of daffodils. I aim to keep mine: hope, joy, forgiveness.
That place in myself full of open windows.
© Maya Stein
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