Calendar: Cento for Naomi Shihab Nye
on another street
under the swollen orange moon
time holds us in its pocket
that once held chocolate eggs,
a purple ribbon or a pill that cost 3 dollars.
glad history isn’t totally lost.
One day soon it will stumble up the walk and knock.
I live in teaspoon, bucket, river, pain,
the librarian careful with her shelves
and everyone who had ever been there.
is the spine of a summer?
You could try a pebble, a miniature box.
What does that do to
a scrap or cell of talk you barely remember,
that frog song wanting nothing but echo?