One of my hearts can barely hold the ethereal scent
of morning’s mimosa. The young, red-bellied
woodpeckers learning to eat the suet fills my smile.
Soon they are pros.
George’s (the dog) face when he destroys the potholder is
beyond fun. Jake’s bark when on the trail
gives me a rush. It is this heart
that expands to hold infinite peaceful scenes.
But my other heart is an organ, pumping a few ounces
of blood with each beat. It is dangerous to overload
this muscle beyond capacity. It won’t rupture, just grow in size
until it pumps no more. Both hearts will leave together.
About the Poet
Barbara Brooks, author of “The Catbird Sang” and “A Shell to Return to the Sea” chapbooks, is a member of Poet Fools. Her work has been accepted in Avalon Literary Review, Chagrin River Review, The Foundling Review, Blue Lake Review, Third Wednesday, Peregrine, Tar River Poetry, Silkworm among others.