The base of a store-bought celery can grow more celerywith enough water. In the plush light of our apartment window,growth comes when no one is watching.It sprouts stalk & lace leaves while we are at your brother’s weddingin a place where palm trees aren’t native but symbolic.Like you, I fumble in our kitchen drawers for the easy metaphor.Liken a regenerating plant to myself. Cutcheese for crackers before dinner. You are hungry,wanting to know how to write about daily life.I tell you writing about sadness is easy. Joy comesin explosions. I learn something new every dayto break the line between repetition. It’s so easyfinding wonder in the baseboards’ dust liningwhen I zoom in. I find a single hair, long and mine.You call them recuerdos, ways to find mein our home when…
You're reading a preview of
The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, November/December 2021