by Claire Kenny
When I tuck my hands into the wool fingerless gloves, close them into fists,
then open them again to the world
When I drive to CVS to pick up my dad’s antibiotics, for healing the stitches
Under a puffy bandage on his cheek
When I walk in the biting 36 degrees, come inside with a crimson face,
and find that the frost has expelled the damp muck from my mind
When I taste the bitterness of a cappuccino and the softness of Quiche Lorraine
When I stir ground turkey in the skillet pan, add southwest taco mix,
And fix a plate of it for my mother
When I encourage my friend to share her singing, because singing is giving
When I string gold, red, and azure beads onto a necklace to wear into town
And at night, when I soak in the shower under the pelting hot water
thinking, “Thank you, thank you.”
Claire Kenny writes poems about celebrating the imagination, finding marvel and purpose in her surroundings, and experiencing the rich color wheel of human emotions. Her poems have been published in magazines including Third Wednesday, Green Ink Poetry, and Meat for Tea. In her free time, she enjoys baking, reading, and going to classical music concerts with friends.
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