Potential
You’d expect Potential to show up in a tailored suit,
give a brilliant Power Point presentation.
But, to my surprise,
I saw Potential sitting on a brick wall,
arms braced against the corners of the evening,
staring at me with dull expectation.
I guess it’s my move.
The cartoon character’s run and pivot
are modeled after a furry-pawed cat.
Mine are playing like ponies this chilly April morning,
balancing bird watching with a never-ending game of tag.
Wide eyed with perpetually adjusting ears,
they prey on this wild world until one pounces on the other.
The wash of stars above went unnoticed
as she pulled up on the front door handle
silencing a screech that would wake her children,
warrant calls from the back of the house,
reminding her that she was leaving them alone, again.
What a terrible way to greet the day
when it hands you maternal guilt in a brown paper lunch sack,
something to chew at you.
The neighborhood seemed weary so early, so empty,
As if it knew the sunrise would bring
folks railing against each other and their lives.
She doubled up her scarf and treaded quietly to the bus stop
fully aware she could not escape this place if she tried.
Sweet maiden of intellect,
you are smart enough to know we are not BFFs
because I made your computer print an assignment
which you fretted would land you a zero without the work.
We have not talked about boys or our dreams
nor have we had the important first fight that congeals all real friendships.
I will accept your bubbly zeal, though.
Come, Snow, bury me so deep in your womb
that I don’t ever feel compelled to find a way out.
Numb me so thoroughly that my taste for numb disappears,
that my burning lungs stop begging for more.
Fill me so completely that regret and loss and hope
all fall out of my stomach never to return.
Harden my heart and take my tongue with a clean break
Force me to give up air for water, land for sea.
Never make me surface again, Snow.
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