Matters of Intake

I have a friend who devours
poems like she devours
sumptuous chocolate cake --
with a feminine fortissimo,
speedily savoring each serving.

I, on the other hand,
experience poems like I
experience creme brulee or flan --
slowly, deliberately,
careful not to overdue it,
knowing that too much
of a good thing will ruin
the power of the moment.

I do not think either way
is superior -- only that one
approach is better for
that particular partaker.

Even now I am closing
a book of poetry,
instinctively knowing
when to say "when."

(sitting in a meeting)

sitting in a meeting
with no clue
dreaming of the beach

(excited to finish the book)

excited to finish the book;
sad to see it
end

(the cardinal)

the cardinal
sounding off
like the Fourth of July

with gratitude to Rebecca J. Davenport for a spectacular ending

(they lean in with)

they lean in with
eyes wide open and
mouths tightly shut

(a generous lark)

a generous lark
and her five fine, feathered friends
treated me to lunch

The Walk

We were like ducklings
following Mrs. Rempala
all the way from our
elementary school to
the nearest track for
practice. Our track team
was permitted to use
Riley Elementary's
facility for our workouts,
as our campus barely
had room for a jungle
gym. I remember walking
through the neighborhoods
between Kyger and Riley
and looking up into the
budding trees the springs
of my fifth and sixth grade
years. I breathed in the
April air and experienced
my first taste of independence,
responsibility and healthy
competition on that walk,
mentally preparing for
the 60 meter dash, my next
boyfriend and junior high.

Without a Honk

There were four
of them -- four
graceful geese
gliding over 65
North as the four-
lane interstate
backed up
farther and farther
south. In the midst
of the two-accident
Tuesday morning
turmoil, just as I
began to grip my
steering wheel
in frustration, I
saw the quartet
breezing over
all four lanes
of traffic without
a honk of their own --
so soft, so peaceful,
so content; so intent.
I watched them
split into two pairs
and continue on their
January journey,
as I adjusted my
hands and then
my attitude, without
a honk of my own.

Grounds for Investment

There's something about
a coffee shop. There's
a sense of life in
the scent of the brew.
It's the occasion to
have a conversation --
to share your heartbreak
with your best friend, to
give your heart to
the love of your life,
to reconnect with
the parent you haven't
spoken to in years.
It's a safe haven.
It's a place of
possibility. The
richness of the roast
grants a sort of
permission to relax
and invest yourself,
to invest your time,
invest your interest
in another. To drink
well, breathe deep
and speak often.

(having a hard time)

having a hard time
deleting her death notice
from my inbox

© Amy E. Hall 2008

(sick feeling with no-)

sick feeling with no-
where to go: knowing my co-
worker is cheating

© Amy E. Hall 2008

Perspective

For Marcy

She was on the e-mail list
that I administer each month.
I took her off the list
two months ago without
instruction to do so.
I had been frustrated that
she never responded to
my carefully constructed,
time-consuming messages
and occasional updates.
I wondered why, month
after month, she didn't
reply or at least accept
my offer to remove her
from the distribution list,
until I received notification
this morning that she just
passed away after a
three-year battle
with cervical cancer.

© Amy E. Hall 2008

Super Tanker

Strange that
my little, black
tank top takes
longer to dry
than anything
else in the load.
Is it too big for
its britches?
Does it have
super powers
that were not
described on its
tag or washing
instructions?
Or does it simply
long for summer
so badly that it
insists on defying
normal logic
until summer
arrives again?

© Amy E. Hall 2008

(simple pleasures)

simple pleasures:
my turn signal blinker in sync
with the song on the radio

© Amy E. Hall 2008

(kitty for keeps)

kitty for keeps:
quiet, self-cleaning,
committed companion

© Amy E. Hall 2008

(enjoying chips and)

enjoying chips and
salsa, and a new CD,
waiting on a poem

© Amy E. Hall 2007

(late dinner downtown)

late dinner downtown
a rented movie
Happy New Year

© Amy E. Hall 2007

(Miles Davis on tap)

Miles Davis on tap
grape juice in the stereo
a New Year's Eve day

© Amy E. Hall 2007

(finishing the last of)

finishing the last of
the egg nog as the
year comes to a close

© Amy E. Hall 2007

(running to the computer)

running to the computer
with cereal bowl in hand
to capture this moment

© Amy E. Hall 2007