Today's poem is by Brett Fletcher Lauer

Work Product

I am here breathing
heavy into one end
of the receiver

in order to reassure you
I am here
on one end breathing.

I find it is important
a stranger feel
as though he or she

has just entered
a clearing where
a majestic bear, rare

so late in the season,
nears a pond. I practice
breathing at home

into an embroidered pillow
shaped like a parrot.
In the morning

I take my body
to where it belongs.
It is exhausting belonging

to anything at all.
In the morning
a small head

attaches itself
to my body.
I must concentrate

on the job at hand.
The phone is ringing
and I think

you were asking
something and I don't
believe I have the answer.

I admit I was practicing
breathing. I was off
somewhere else thinking

of the whales
that have beached themselves,

I was somewhere thinking
of the crowd
watching the whales.

The phone is ringing
and Line One is a story
of talent and genius.

Line Two, it is your mother
and you are crying again.
Don't cry. I am touching

your shoulder.

Copyright © 2013 Brett Fletcher Lauer All rights reserved
from The Literary Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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