by Marianne Brems
A small dish where I place orphans sits in my kitchen—
a screw or a shiny clip or the back of an earring
for safe keeping until I find where it belongs.
Of course years go by and I never find where they go,
but each time I see my dish, I think Ah, a work in progress.
There’s movement in my life.
I could take an opposite view and think,
I have no need for more unfinished business.
Toss this junk that only takes up space.
But no, there is comfort
in making the world small for a moment,
a place where the back of an earring
waiting for its other half offers hope.
Marianne Brems is the author of the full-length poetry collection Stepping Stones (2024) and three chapbooks. Her poems have also appeared in literary journals including The Bluebird Word, Front Porch Review, Remington Review, and Green Ink Poetry. Favorite poets include Kay Ryan, Ellen Bass, and Naomi Shihab Nye. She lives, cycles, and swims in Northern California. Website: http://www.mariannebrems.com.
Little Leaf Literary Journal 