Along the Way

Peoms are short, so I read them between stops on the train, between meals; between interviews. I read them tucked between essays and tucked into moments at the end of the day. Poems are small giants that I carry with me between jobs, between hopes and between fears. Poems wait for me downtown on cafe chalkboards and in bins at library booksales. They wait patiently in my bag that swings over my shoulder as I collect paychecks that too are small. Poems are adaptable, sitting along edges of pages or in empty places on subway headers. They sit there in hopes that someone will read them. Poems are small so I fill myself with them before something else begins.