Basket
(after Mark Strand’s “Giving Myself Up)
She had some doubts
She had some jazz on the stereo
She had time to think
She had a basketful of smooth stones that clacked together as she walked, balancing them on her hip
She had some eggs in the refrigerator
She had a hesitation in her speech that made her seem incomplete, aloof
She had some kind of a dog
She had some great notions
She had her way with the wind, could bend and shape it
She had the skills she needed to get through the day but sorrow kept her from it
She had some flowers on the windowsill
She had the radio on; she hummed along to that Abba song she hated, was resentful when it stayed in her head the rest of the morning
She had some way to go
She had some pieces of broken pottery saved in a box in the basement
She had every intention
She had a way about her
She had a broad forehead and a quirky mouth, eyes that would disappear when she smiled
She had some ideas she couldn't find the words for
She had some bread
She had some cheese
She had some wine, and the light through the glass and the red waves moving inside it made her heart full of flowing
She had some misgivings
She had some fears; many fears, truth be told
She had some rooms she never opened, she had some drawers she never looked in
She had some clothes she couldn't bear to give away
She had too many books
She had worries that were different than her fears
She had a crust or a crumb caught in her throat
She had some difficulty catching her breath
She had some spells
She had some good days
She had some bad days
She had something she could never remember, she had some things she could never forget
She had some nerve
She had some inkling of what was to come
She had Some Kind of Wonderful in her head now, thankfully it had ousted that Abba song
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