Love Like Salt by Lisel Mueller

[conuly]

It lies in our hands in crystals
too intricate to decipher

It goes into the skillet
without being given a second thought

It spills on the floor so fine
we step all over it

We carry a pinch behind each eyeball

It breaks out on our foreheads

We store it inside our bodies
in secret wineskins

At supper, we pass it around the table
talking of holidays and the sea.

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Comments

[conuly]

Yes, I don't always like the poem of the day choices, but when I do I really do.