Notice the red tongues of cannas flowering at the front
of the house, the dog’s slow arthritic rise as he wiggles over
to lick your hand. Ignore the weeds sprouting from between
the paving stones, no matter how often I tug them out.
Come in and kick off your shoes. Or don’t, the floors never
quite clean, littered with pebbles of gravel unlodged
from the soles of my trainers after walking the path around
the lake. We can visit there later, watch the herons wade
majestic, stir the shallows with their legs then dart long beaks
beneath the surface to catch their lunch. But for now, help
yourself to a drink. Never mind the smudges on the refrigerator,
the handle always just a little sticky, the odd dish in the sink.
Sit anywhere—at the kitchen island, edges chipped by
my son rotating back and forth on the metal chairs, or on
the brown chaise that fits perfectly beneath the dining room
window, part of an old sectional I couldn’t bear to discard.
Come sit beside me as the dew burns away and the sun glides
higher over the cottonwoods and pines. The dog will curl
at our feet to warm his slow bones as condensation forms
on our glasses of mint tea clinking with ice. Don’t bother
with a coaster. A mark will remind me you were here .
Writing Prompt
Choose an abstract concept or emotion that might show up to visit, whether it is welcome or unwelcome. Using either second person and/or epistolary form, write a one-sided conversation with that concept/emotion about its visit. Try to incorporate images that illustrate or imply its meaning or feeling and how you are reacting to it. Use at least eight imperative sentences.
[If you hate writing titles (like I do), call your draft “When _______Comes to Call, I _________”]
Donna Vorreyer is the author of To Everything There Is (2020), Every Love Story is an Apocalypse Story (2016) and A House of Many Windows (2013), all from Sundress Publications. She hosts the online reading series A Hundred Pitchers of Honey.
Moist Poetry Journal 