Poems for Janell's Last Class

Two Prose Poems About Common Objects

A wooden box without a bottom, solid on top except for an oval hole in the middle. It probably has a name, but I know it as a cover to hold down the kleenex box while I pluck tissues from its stomach.

_____

Standing in your base, a sentinel of sanitation, light blinking under soft button while charging, steady when charged. You serve your purpose when I pick you up, anoint you with the sacred cream, and stick you in my mouth.

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Two more poems on the topic of lost and found:

A flake

of something white and papery

fell from the heavens

into my lap

as I sat at the front of the church,

casting about

for a way

to stanch the bleeding

of a scab I'd just picked.

______

When I finally got around to watching the movie Rent,

it included a wedding scene

in a sanctuary I used to know

like the back of my hand.

It had been decades

since I'd helped lead services there,

or sung in the choir.

Seeing that old familiar place

was like a cool breeze

from a younger sky.