Michelle Beth Cronk
　

Throwing Duality

I have things to tell you
that will not waitanother moon.

So I gather flecks
of fool's gold in the starless
darkening, keep them
in my pocket
to toss back to the river
at bird song.

Perhaps the gold and not
the black
will shine in first
light; though
either may suffice
to turn your head, catch

your eye.

-previously published at Eclectica Magazine
　
Where The Sun Goes

Round moves down
leaving acres of
darkening blue;

it glides
below the rim,
edging past,
expanding another
half and
opens mornings –

just beyond
our view.

-previously published in Emerging Poets
　

Grief

One day you will be gone
and Iwill fall quietly,

like rain, with no preference
for my landing place.
　

On Being A Mother
for Bobby at 3 1/2

“Why did you throw your pants on the floor?”

“Because I love you and you love me.”

“What does that have to do with pants on the floor?

”Everything.

　
Telling Secrets

I will tell my children when they ask.
They will not understand
but one day they will remember
that I told them
what I know.

Love is not easy.
Love is compromise;
Love is woven into more.

It is hard and long;
years drain in harsh words
and fill after gentle ones.
There are as many of one
as the other.
The kind do not outweigh the cruel nor
the other way around.

Love is what is left.

After loss and joy, it is the remainder of
time spent together.
The longer reward
of knowing.

There is no place I would be
except here
where love is equal
to the effort.

Worth the telling.

That is what I’ll tell them.

-all three previously published at Loch Raven Review