Needed to Hear

Needed to Hear

(I was constantly “rejoicing in his whole world and delighting in mankind.” Proverbs 8:31)

“luckily” I said and
suddenly wished I was dead
for the measurers of words and
literates of faith deemed my usage absurd
(having conferred earlier in the day and deemed
potlucks unlucky, changing the term to PotBlessings
and FaithMeals, which made rhyming even a more
miserable lot for a poet who prefers free verse
without messing
with metre and rhyme much.)
Still they cringed as if lucky was unheard of
in the vocabulary of faith.

I had overstirred my welcome.

She sat just outside the door while the plates were clattering
in the tiny back kitchen, children chattering, but no one noticing
she had left. The PotBlessing was nearly over and nothing else mattered,
except the girl outside who didn’t need to be flattered, she just needed to hear.

He hurried home to take his turn at the remote, (it was
always his turn at the remote), while children, 3 of them and
2 years apart nearly exactly, family planning went well;
while three children grabbed his arms, legs and neck before
he even removed his coat. His eyebrows narrowed, his skin was cold,
he needed a beer before now, before the day exploded upon the 3
and the 1 he knew since elementary. They all just needed to hear.

He was plain, she was shy, they couldn’t sing, they never applied,
she was hungry, he was thirsty, they loved too early, they had no reply
to the looks that always went through them,
the words that never included them,
and they moved in down the street in the adobe apartments,
no one adopted their premature family. The collected food stamps
for a hobby, and raised another round of invisible children
who sit outside church potlucks

Wondering why people kept cringing over words like “lucky”

They just needed to hear, early and never-too-late,
just once in their life
poor and dry, or rich and raining,
we all need to hear, know it or not:

“Baby, you’re amazing.”