This poem was published in The Centennial Review (Vol. 38, No. 2, Spring 1994).
Esther
Are all the doors locked?
Is the stove on? You’ll
check it? All right then
I’ll leave that to you.
Do you like colored glass?
See this clear blue vase?
When I was five I’d
say to my aunt where’s
my pity pitcher? She’d say
here it is darlin and
she gave me that pticher
I treasure it more than
anything I have. My grandmother
never gave me anything. My
daughter says I shouldn’t remember
such but how can I
help it? Is the stove
on? Do you think the
stove is on? No? Well
then all right. And as
I was telling you we
had geese in a pen
about as big as this
room and one time they
jumped up and flew and
a coyote got one of
em and carried it off
too far our gun couldn’t
shoot so far you know.
Have you ever heard coyotes
howl? My mother said they
shouldn’t have left their nice
pen. Are all the doors
locked? We’re isolated here you
know. Though I could swing
a polecat by the tail
I guess it’s OK you
say they’re all locked? Well
then all right. Are you
going to be here in
the house with me all
night? Will you sleep up
there or down here? As
I was saying one summer
a woman visited me at
our cottage up north and
she hated the woods. She
didn’t like the spider at
the swimming dock either I
told her it was my
pet and how did she
like my other pet this
garter snake. Well she went
home after two weeks though
she was supposed to stay
with me all summer. But
that was better don’t you
think? Are you going to
be here in the house
with me all night? Are
all the doors locked? You’ll
check them? Good then I’ll
leave that to you. Do
you think the stove is
on? No? All right then.
Do you like to travel?
It’s good for a person
to go places while they’re
young. My parents went up
to the Black Hills once
oh they were pretty that
was before those heads were
there. The Indians were real
mad you know when they
put in those awful heads.
flyingtrapeze.net 