Curiosity
by Iris Lennox
My little white cat stands at every doorway
before she enters.
Perhaps it is fear
but I think it’s manners,
and questions that steady her
upon the threshold.
Is there anything here
worth the risk
it takes to
leave the safety of the hallway,
and what will I miss if I do?
No noise behind her,
but I sit typing at my desk
while she
considers,
a tiny pink nose weighing her
options—
I say hello,
which changes nothing,
and now I weigh
my kindness against her indifference
as a thread moves across the floor,
the air purifier
beckoning it closer.
My little white cat enters
not to see me
but to inspect the thread
and to
maybe
prove the room deserves her
presence.
Patience
by Iris Lennox
Moose Tracks are easier to eat in a bowl,
but not nearly as engaging
as racing to the drips
spilling over the sides
of my cone
and knowing there are
peanut butter cups gathering
in the middle.
Why do the sweetest parts
hide in the center?
No one eats M&Ms for the color,
and you’d embarrass yourself
if you dared say,
“the peel is better than the orange.”
We all know
some things ask to be opened—
the banana from the stem,
the shells at the baseball game,
the foil around warm chocolate
you forgot was in your pocket.
At least,
for me,
for today,
for this moment,
all I need to do
is taste sweetness
with the patience of a toddler,
unaware of the nature
of stickiness,
and save the middle
for later.
Father
by Iris Lennox
He left before his first Father’s Day
and mine.
But at least he left in style,
with my mother’s car,
all her cash,
and glasses
wrapped in a towel
because they were
worth keeping.
He worked in a bar
and, from what I hear,
he lived like he did.
At least that’s what strangers told me,
each one carrying
another adventure.
Someone up north.
Another on the west coast.
Then the east
before he landed
in Las Vegas.
The land of dreams
won
and lost
all in the same night.
Sounds about right.
I met my father
for the first time
and the last
one month before he died,
and every Father’s Day
I try
not to care.
Written in response to three words: curiosity, patience, father.
Iris Lennox 