(Poem 23 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My elephant thinks
she’s invisible, despite
the fact that I speak
to her daily and offer
to take her wherever
she may wish to go.
She prefers to lurk in
doorways, eavesdrop on
my conversations with
prospective employers and
watch Korean dramas
over my shoulder.
We’ve settled nicely
into a routine of
keeping each other at
trunk’s length and eyeing
suspiciously any behaviors
indicative of confidence.
She likes it when I nap,
over-schedule, talk on the
phone, or make pictures of
elephants in living rooms
with other elephants in
paintings and televisions.
I like it when she forgets
her vow of silence,
tells me what it’s like to
take up so much space,
to fill the room with herself,
and trumpet her name.
@Home Studio – 23rd poem of the year
rebekahjmarshall 