The Yarn Spinner
Carmen Ruggero's Fiction and Poetry
To a Poet’s Poet
Just a few words strung together.
Just a few pictures wrapped as words.
Tied with a little string instead of a bow.
Just a few hearts, just a few hands,
reaching for the warmth of skin
remembers it’s flesh. Just a few hints
of essence of rose. Coffee in the morning,
bread warm from the stove. Nape
of a neck perfumed with soap. Just a bit
of paper, not a few piles of eraser bits.
Just a bit of heartbreak, just a little loss.
Soupcon of broth from an outsized ladle
to feed a multitude on very few fish.
In between a thrill goes too deep
to be prose. Just the thing about being
human. Just the rhythms humans hum.
All this and more you bring us, Poet.
Bring out on a platter you keep warm,
Napkin with a smile. Just a few tears.
Okay, a lot. Poetry spelled L I f e
not at all like falling off a log. Real
thank-you poem not a little hard
to write. Best to read the poem
penning itself inside.
