Nancy Baxter

Pieces of syntax and her mother
concerned only for the smokeless
blue container on the glass table.
Of the many things left overdone,
last night's handshake: conscious
of holding so many metacarpals.

Perhaps she should pull shoelaces
from a headache and stop apologizing.

Every imprint of shoehorn openings
in blue served with a handful of sun-
flower seeds. Then wait for the next
vaccine or military expedition.
The hour is up. Who can tell her to stop
holding her shoes just off the couch.

©Copyright Nancy Baxter