Margaret MacDonald
—
DAILIES
I thought the leaf
drifting past the
oh, window
was the shadow
of a doubt, comrade
approaching
let’s get organized. the periodic
directive. what does it mean? exactly,
except
the seascape is changing,
every fall we set
the gourds,
arrange ourselves another
wheeled diorama.
these plastic lemons
are for always. periodically,
I tap one. to be sure
we are losing
our minds. my
grandmother’s so delightfully
unbound. everything is funny
now. she says hers is
“a bit loose”
like something shaking
in a shoe. all of my rules
are self-imposed. I am only
a little box
being shook. my dailies
appreciate value
based on a fugitive
order, I suspect, but can’t
confirm.
Margaret MacDonald received her MFA from the Bennington Writing Seminars. She lives and writes in upstate NY.
* Poems are intended to be read on larger screens. Mobile and narrow browser windows break the original format of pieces with longer line lengths
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