Today's poem is by Sandra Simonds
Great Smoky Mountain National Park
My husband calls me a "mountain snob."
"Well, stop leaving empty containers of food
in the cupboards," I respond. It's true.
The Appalachians have nothing
on the Sierras. Still, I've dragged him and my son
from Florida to this postpartum cabin
in Tennessee. We sit by a blue lake.
We meditate. We sit by a blue river.
Some tweens float by in tires like rivers and
kids are just reels of film. One of them screams
"Help me!" I say I'm too fat to move. The cellulite
on my thighs won't erode. Call me crazy,
but isn't there a six week old infant in my lap?
Holy shit, this baby just rolled his eyes at me.
Copyright © 2012 Sandra Simonds All rights reserved
from Court Green
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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