NEW POETRY

I walk down the street putting rocks into my pockets
because they’re pretty and I want them, I whistle at the birds fluttering overhead
talk to squirrels, tell everything how much it’s loved, I want everything to know
how much I love them, everything around me I don’t know why.

My husband tells me I don’t pay enough attention to him, and I
wallow in guilt as I make his sandwiches and cookies for work
my daughter shouts that having me for a mother is like being raised
by an angry wolf, I curl up inside, imagine my heart is a fireplace.

Out in the garden, I set the rocks from my walk in a neat pile
imagine how much the frogs hiding in the greenery will enjoy these rocks
tell the invisible frogs how I got these rocks just for them
fuss over the pile until everything is balanced in such a way that they will not fall.

My husband tells me I talk to the dog more than I talk to him, my daughter
tells me how happy she’ll be to move out in a couple of years
I close my eyes and imagine a house of silence and warmth
imagine that I can get these noisy things to love me as much as I love them.

Holly Day‘s writing has recently appeared in Analog SF, Talking River, and New Plains Review, and her published books include Music Theory for Dummies and Music Composition for Dummies. She currently teaches classes at The Loft Literary Center in Minnesota, Huge House in Washington, and the Indiana Writers Center.