» Poetry

POEM WHEN REMINDED ABOUT GRACE

Cynthia Atkins

 

And the girls that held my hair back
at the water fountain or the toilet.
Girls prettier than me, better teeth.
And the pimpled teen that held out
an umbrella at the bus stop,
as rain pelted the city sidewalks.
I am reminded about grace—
Human beings touching, making contact.
Unctuous hugs by friends in sweaters
over coffee on a snowy day.
The wet shoes of our beings.
A warmth that lights the way.
(Because we’re all going to die.)
This morning, a hummingbird flew
so close to my shoulder, I felt
the motor of her tiny wings—
like a baby’s milky breath.
Or that stranger that bought
me coffee on a day made from hell—
The lady that just worked a nightshift,
offered me her seat on the bus, because I was
eight months pregnant. This afternoon, I ate
a sandwich made by my lover’s.
familiar hands. My tender war chest—
a penned note with a jagged hand-drawn heart.

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Cynthia Atkins

Cynthia Atkins (She, Her), originally from Chicago, IL is the author of Psyche’s Weathers, In the Event of Full Disclosure, and Still-Life With God (Saint Julian Press 2020), Duets, a collaborative chapbook from Harbor Editions. Her work has appeared in many journals, including Alaska Quarterly Review, BOMB, Cider Press Review, Diode, Cimarron Review, Gargoyle, Indianapolis Review, Los Angeles Review, Rust + Moth, North American Review, Permafrost, Plume, and Verse Daily. Atkins has earned fellowships and prizes from Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, SWWIM Residency, Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, The Writer’s Voice, and Writers@Work. More work and info at: www.cynthiaatkins.com