Shopping Carts, by Laura J. Martin

Loss does not hit
until you are treading
a preponderance of pine
and you hear it:

crows

softened by snow.

Or until you return
a shopping cart. You notice
the others scattered about
as though life were too hard
not to abandon them.

Finally, when you pour yourself
a drink, and you find no drink
meets your thirst. It hits:
this burst—this wanting thing.

That is why morning is like spring.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 14, Issue 1.

Laura J. Martin is a writer and ecologist based out of Ithaca, New York. Her non-fiction has appeared in Conservation Biology, Urban Ecosystems, and elsewhere; her poetry is forthcoming in The Fourth River.

See all items about Laura J. Martin

Visit Laura Martin’s contributor’s page.

Leave a Reply