Elephants

When the first elephant stepped in the room
It was easy for me to step aside,
To carry on a conversation
With only occasional nervous glances
At the elephant,
Wondering when you would chase it out.

When the seconded came blundering in
I stepped back,
But I could still shout when I wanted to talk to you,
And speculate about the absurdity
Of the elephants in the room.

When the third came charging in
It pinned me against the wall,
And it was no longer possible to see you
Or hear you;
I could only gasp at the weight
Of a gray rump that squeezed my heart,
And I cried at the thought
Of the room we once shared.

I know we’re not supposed to think about
The elephants in the room,
But I don’t even know who you are any more.
The elephants may be ten times my size,
But for once in my life I’m going to ignore etiquette
And push back,
Simply because
I miss you.

Miser

I am a miser
Of memories;
When a moment catches my eye
I put it in a jar,
And place the jar
Just so—
On a shelf in my heart.

I hoard memory after memory,
Collecting jar after jar,
And each one I place
Just so—
Lining jar after jar
In shiny little rows
That sparkle like jewels.

I’m the one who looks in nooks
And turns over stones
Whenever I am out;
I wait for that moment
When my daughter smiles,
When my son laughs,
Or when you, my love,
Light up my heart,
And
— Click!—
A picture formed
Just so—
Another memory saved
For my rows of jars.

In my leisure
I stroll through my treasures;
I arrange them
And rearrange them
Until each one is
Just so—
And then I smile at every sparkle
Echoed through row after row,
Each golden piece glittering
With glimpses of you.

I am a miser
Of memories,
And when I look at the collection
I have hoarded,
Each jar lined up
Just so—
I know
I am rich.