The inquisitive guy at the UPS store needs to know, in a word or two, what’s in my box. This makes me anxious because my box is full of things that aren’t related. My mind reels—a red rubber doorstop, a squeaky toy for the dog, a sparkle stick for jewelry, eau de toilette—a hodgepodge of items to be sure. The best I can come up with is miscellaneous stuff. But this answer won’t do. It’s specificity he’s after, but when I try listing the items one after another and so on and so forth, he stops and stares. So, feel my relief as he keys in tchotchkes.
fresh bait
on the end of the line
a tug
is an American poet currently living in the Greater Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Area. In addition to appearing in national and international print and on-line publications, her poems have been on public display on the streets of Washington, D.C., honored with editor/reader choice selections, and featured on city buses in Arlington, Virginia. In 2016, her haiku was the top winner in the United States category in the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival’s Haiku Invitational contest.
