I wish
I could write
happy things,
stuff about
a first kiss,
or a mid-life lover,
the greeting card stanzas
that warm us
like a puppy
or a big furry cat
laying in our lap.

I want to
shout that
Emerson thing,
sound that
Thoreau vibe,
proclaim a little
and allude to
that Ginsberg guy,
by envisioning
a transcendental poet
in the produce aisle
of a grubby grocery store.

But then my nature
merges with
that which surrounds,
the glint of sun
the drift of clouds,
and the toss of grass
by a cool night breeze
into a dark shield
of melody,
and touch,
making me exhale
any normalcy
that ever was.

Selected byNolcha Fox
Image credit:Billy Huynh

Ann Kammerer lives near Chicago, and is a recent transplant from her home state of Michigan. Her short fiction and narrative poetry have appeared in several publications and anthologies, and her collections of narrative poetry include Yesterday's Playlist (Bottlecap Press 2023), Beaut (Kelsay Books 2024) and Friends Once There (Impspired, coming summer 2024). Visit annkammerer.com