Making Something Out of Nothing by Nancy Schatz Alton
you, clutching your rifle in thin fall snow,
are an instrument of some vital love. –Emily Van Kley
I feel not so vital lately even as the world proves me wrong:
bylines, loving daughters, a husband who makes me breakfast
the way I pull words out of the air and hand them to my students
saying, hey, look: you created beauty so easily right there on the page.
Bylines, loving daughters, a husband who stays and stays
even as my energy surges like a too-bright comet approaching old age
says, hey, look, you created beauty that fell out of your womb and into your life
your next gifts: chin hairs, a thick middle, an invisibility cloak & dark dreams.
Yet my energy surges, so bright with the promise of approaching old age
grab it & be glad, what never arrives for some is mine for the taking
love the pluck/pull of tweezers, my soft middle, invisibility & dark dreams
alongside my morning coffee & time to be as vital as the day allows, I begin again.