Member-only story
Featured
Lit Up | Poetry
Apples
Free verse
Not yet a Medium subscriber, read for free.
More than once I’ve wondered where
I put that clever recipe
for Green Papaya Salad — without the papaya.
First I think
I know it’s in a notebook…
Such foolishness…which one?
I have enough to make a library: Lined and blank, bright and bended, dull and creased, scattered pages floating loose and drenched in the weary washing of my own poor brain?
Then it comes in as a sinking wave
of a memory, heaves me over
knocks me down again
knocks me down…
You know that ebb, that flow, that crashing cataclysm of a heavy crest bearing down…
the dread weight of an unexpected phone call…
I know which notebook:
the one my father didn’t buy me
…though he was going to
…but we were arguing
…on some
…small
…point
…again…
