The poem I wasn’t going to write
In a fit of petulance,
I decided I was never going
to write another poem.
Tears of self-righteous,
self-denial prickled
behind my eyes
as I made my declaration.
Nobody likes me,
everybody hates me,
I’m going to eat some worms.
But, then I noticed
piping plovers sunning themselves
on the beach,
each nestled in a little hollow
in the sand,
some tucked down so deep,
only their heads poked out.
With a sudden jolt of understanding,
I realized they were sitting
in people’s footprints,
temporary nests
carved by passing heels
and barefoot soles.
I’m not going to write a poem
about this,
I say,
no one cares
and
no one else gets to know
that piping plovers sit in footprints
in their spare time.
The poem tickles at me though,
it nudges,
I care,
I want to tell about it,
if only for my future self
to remember the sharp flare
of surprised delight to see
a little white head and shiny black eyes
peeking out of a footprint in the sand.
Molly Remer, MSW, D.Min, is a priestess, mystic, and poet in central Missouri. Molly is the author of many books, including Walking with Persephone, Whole and Holy, Womanrunes, In the Temple of the Ordinary, and 365 Days of Goddess. She is the creatrix of the devotional experience #30DaysofGoddess and she loves savoring small magic and everyday enchantment.
Amethyst Review 