Today’s Poem

Self Portrait as Still Life

The box fan in the window
whirls, but doesn’t disturb
the wren shuffling the deck
of leaves outside. Five book-
shelves cradling dust
mites and countless homes
for spiders. The roll top desk
grandfather left. What would
he have written on this yellow
legal pad—list of Louis L’Amour
books he remembered reading,
notes of where he might have left
some keepsake: keys to a small
boat, a kind set of hands to touch
a woman with. Now a photo
of a girl too beautiful to keep.
A hoarding of rubber chickens,
broken watches, notes on the word
fuselage, and tomorrows locked
in a collection of mason jars.

-Jason Braun