May 7, 2024

A word about the poem below: It’s stitched (with a few editorial liberties) from lines written in a WhatsApp message group with some good friends. I love looking in places like text threads to see what poems might be lurking there. Why not give it a try for yourself? If you feel like it, send me the results!

loons

I love us and our messy lives, for holding all of it sacred, for being 
in each other’s back pockets. What a great musical we would be! Roadside
attractions and that time we had lunch with the Hare Krishnas and got stoned. 
The hotel room where we ate Rice Krispies and string cheese and had a view 
to the Shoney’s across the parking lot. I love how we talk about retiring, 
say we’ll sit on porch rockers, listening to cicadas. How we’ll become bird 
whisperers and go to the laundromat and turn our childhood nightmares 
into a more positive outlook and make sure the ferns make it through 
without frost damage. I love how we say we’ll use only safety pins for tools. 
How we’ll visit the orthopedist, watch soap operas, wait for the loons to return.