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Conditional Love

By Carolyn Martin

PROMPT — What is Love?

I’m conditioned to follow Rumi’s advice

to sell my tongue and buy a thousand ears

when you arrive with the latest biography,

scientific reveal, or financial strategy

before my breakfast coffee’s brewed.


I’m conditioned to rearrange dishes,

pots, pans, and silverware plopped

rambunctiously in the washer’s racks;

and to rescue potato peels, Kleenex wads,

and empty cans that missed the garbage bag.


I’m conditioned to be counted on when fear

of kitchen knives needs my steady grip

to slice your onions, carrots, and yams;

or when you lose your gloves, faith in yourself,

or belief that humans can be healed.


I’m conditioned to know if you were gone,

I’d long for your voice gentling a stormy day,

the sounds of supper simmering the kitchen air,

the games we play to lose, then find, ourselves.

So, my dear, let’s love the way we love. Agree?

 

Blissfully retired in Clackamas, Oregon, Carolyn Martin is a lover of gardening and snorkeling, feral cats and backyard birds, writing and photography. Her poems have appeared in more than 200 journals throughout North America, Australia, and the UK. Find out more at carolynmartinpoet.com.

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