A Collection of Poems

In Kansas,
Fishes lay eggs in the sand.
I find and dig them up
And I hold them in my hand.
They tremble and shiver — or is it low blood pressure?
I mutter something about vasovagal
And hypoglycemia,
And ask to buy a bagel.
Tiny precious lives
Inside fragile little eggs,
They tremble and shake,
Teeming with life,
Itching and yearning to break Free.

I look down at my bagel,
At the bread, lightly toasted,
And seeds,
Little eggs for flowers,
Itching to grow;
Destined to grow a garden
In my belly,
Feeding my life,
My little eggs in me.

It tastes like butter
And gluten and home,
Little history of the place I was born from.
A little piece of eggshell
Left in the egg and cheese;
A little piece of home in me.

Remember the leaves
on the water,
floating down the stream?
Drifting past,
Barely;
A half-remembered dream.