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Poem Of The Day

Tarragon on the Side

next to her fork,
two o'clock from her blue plate,
the tarragon sits on the table.
\it is kept in a curiously heavy
porcelain blue bird;
it is rarely used,
but it is always present.
\the little bird fits perfectly in the center
of my palm, cradled
in the crevice of my lifeline;
there was a bird's nest in my palm.
\the tarragon was never used. I don't even
know why she kept it out on the table, but
its container was a constant--few empty
objects have ever held so much.