WHEN MY EX CALLED IN SICK
I almost brought him soup. So strong
was my habit of caring for him,
I was willing to make it
from scratch, the flesh falling
from hen bones, the rings
of celery and translucent onions,
the round carrots floating,
the slim bay leaf slip
so potent I only need one.
—from Rattle #37, Summer 2012
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Darla Biel: “I tried to write poetry before I knew how to write letters. I asked my mom and grandma to ‘read’ my scribbles, and threw a royal fit when they told me I hadn’t written a poem. I’m still learning.” (web)
