Why I’m Interested in Love

Yesterday in a detailed
critical note about a novel
I might or might not write the question
came up more than once:
Why Am I Interested in Love.
Some questions hard not to answer
You’re Kidding
never a good response
people want Real Answers
although there is never
actually a Real Answer to any question
that isn’t about numbers or facts
those aren’t the sorts of things
I want to know. In other words,
what it was that Julia C. Steele
saw in Rebecca McGrath (maybe this
is my St. Patrick’s Day poem – they
made corned beef and cabbage, invited
me over and I went for four years) my childhood next
door neighbors (Rebecca McGrath
was married to Mr. McGrath but that
did not interfere with their love
and eventually, moving to Rockport, Mass)
what they saw in one another
when they were so different Julia
was an alphabetizer of everything
and Rebecca had four big piles on her floor
cheerful piles I saw them dancing once
through their bedroom window
across the driveway from mine I was 11
what I saw was love

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.

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