L.L. Barkat is a writer, editor, poet, columnist, speaker and entrepreneur. She is the author of Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places, God in the Yard: Spiritual Practice for the Rest of Us, and InsideOut: Poems. Barkat is Managing Editor at The High Calling and staff writer for International Arts Movement’s The Curator. She’s also a co-editor here at TweetSpeak Poetry.
This poem is taken from InsideOut: Poems, published in 2009 by International Arts Movement.
Foyer
Who looks
at the new straw
hat, remembering
Grandma,
how she beat
brazen rays each
day by sneaking
under a brim
like that. And who
notices the wrought
iron roses now
hung askew
on our cherry
coat rack; she
wrung pits
out of red fruit
too, swatted flies,
rolled tart sweet
flesh, juice into
crust, but that is
another story;
I am asking you
about the roses
broken, and a
missing screw,
but you are busy
arranging tailored
black wool on
a cool hook worn
brass blue, we’re
just in the hall,
after all, we’re just
passing through.
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