A Poem by Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg

True Love



True like the sky you can depend on
to always be something. True 
like a lily ready to tilt vertical 
to horizontal. True like a bare foot
to cold morning ground even 
when there’s no place to go.

True like the bounding dog between
wondering what’s for dinner 
and the possibility on the counter
gone in a flash. True like cats sleeping
in inconvenient for you places.
True like mice that keep finding
new ways into the house, packrats
that persist enough to eat the wires
under the hood of your tired car.
True like all of us just trying to get by.

True like algebraic formulas, refrigerators
still humming steady after 25 years, 
all manner of box springs, bonsai junipers,
boisterous home teams winning homecoming.
True like cabinet hinges, blocks of sun
on the kitchen floor that’s been mopped
or not, and high-jumping squirrels at 3 a.m. 

True love is not made of wings and wind, 
throttled down by hail. It doesn’t crease
like wrapping paper taped wrong, won’t
fall to pieces like popsicle stick vows.

No, it’s true like chocolate cake, the best
falafels, Caesar salad with true anchovies
while you look into each other’s true eyes
and say again, laughing, let’s do it anyway,
we can always sleep later, catch up 
when we’re truly dead. 

Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg, Ph.D., the 2009-13Kansas Poet Laureate is the author of 23 books, including Miriam’s Well, a novel; Everyday Magic: A Field Guide to the Mundane and Miraculous, and Following the Curve, poetry. Her previous work includes The Divorce Girl, a novel; Needle in the Bone, a non-fiction book on the Holocaust; The Sky Begins At Your Feet, a bioregional memoir on cancer and community; and six poetry collections, including the award-winning Chasing Weather with photographer Stephen Locke. Founder of Transformative Language Arts at Goddard College, Mirriam-Goldberg also leads writing workshops widely.

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