Thursday
Suddenly, I know what is in the package. It’s
another piece of child, sent to drive me crazy. The package
is just the right size to hold
a bunch of little bits.
The very bottom of the stack of mail is a large manila envelope,
full of photographs of people I don’t know
or a finger, perhaps.
I gently pick the package up and shake it, it sounds
thick with paperwork, photographs of people I don’t know.
The rest of the mail sits waiting to be sorted through
at the very bottom of the stack is a large manila envelope,
perhaps concealing another piece of child, sent to drive me crazy. The package
has the return address of the new Baptist church in my neighborhood.
Photographs of children pour out onto the floor from the package
from the envelope, I think I recognize the handwriting.
Holly Day is a housewife and mother of two living in Minneapolis, Minnesota who teaches needlepoint classes for the Minneapolis school district and writing classes at The Loft Literary Center. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Tampa Review, The Comstock Review, and the St. Paul Almanac, and she is the 2011 recipient of the Sam Ragan Poetry Prize from Barton College. Her most recent published books are Walking Twin Cities (Wilderness Press) and Notenlesen für Dummies Das Pocketbuch (Wiley).
