Today's poem is by Lara Egger

After Watching the Documentary about the Young Solo Climber Marc-André My Friend Asks, "Are We All Born to Do Exactly What We Do?"
       

This morning I woke to discover the dog
had shredded the paper towels again.
On the news: refugees, sifting through garbage

bags of baby clothes. Unlike Marc-André,
most alpinists choose to climb in pairs, aided by a system
of ropes and anchors designed to catch them

if they fall. I'm wondering this morning,
Does empathy burn any calories?
I'm thinking about quitting

regret's love affair. The news: Harmony,
age seven, is still missing, and I feel guilty
for all those times I've wanted to disappear.

Walking the dog at night, I look into my neighbors'
lit windows. They're cooking or in their living rooms,
bathed in an unearthly blue. That the world is big enough

to house each of our tiny universes.
That we've no say whether we're delivered
into dark matter or a constellation.

Tweet
Copyright © 2024 Lara Egger All rights reserved
from The Southern Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission