By Nancy Aronie
I look at you like
you’re a crossword puzzle
and I can’t get one clue
How did this happen
that two people so different
so wrong for each other
fit as if God herself
used a celestial bandsaw
and made our pieces herself?
You were from royalty
My people swept floors
Your brain is from Harvard.
Mine didn’t get schooled.
You’ve marinated your soul
in grapes that turned sour and bitter
Me?
I have a sweet tooth.
So tell me, my love
What should we do about that upturned wine glass?
You’d say with that twinkle
Turn it right side up and
fill it
Nancy Slonim Aronie is an author, facilitator of the Chilmark Writing Workshops, and a columnist for The Times. Her most recent book, “Memoir as Medicine: The Healing Power of Writing Your Messy, Imperfect, Unruly (but Gorgeously Yours) Life Story,” was published in March 2022.
Poets with a connection to Martha’s Vineyard are encouraged to submit poems to Poet’s Corner curator Laura Roosevelt at ldroosevelt@gmail.com.
