The Way We Love Something Small
The translucent claws of newborn mice
this pearl cast of color,
the barely perceptible
like a ghosted threshold of being:
here not here.
The single breath we hold
on the thinnest verge of sight:
not there there.
A curve nearly naked
an arc of almost,
a wisp of becoming
tiny enough to change me.
Copyright © 2020 by Kimberly Blaeser. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on April 8, 2020 by the Academy of American Poets.
About this Poem
“This poem comes from a series of similar pieces—all called ‘The Way We Love Something Small,’ pieces grounded in an understanding of poetry as an act of attention. Each poem focuses on those heightened moments common to our experience in which a place, sound, personal exchange, natural creatures, even an object suddenly resonates or becomes transformative. While rescuing a newborn mouse, I saw for the first time the pup’s delicate, nearly invisible claws, and writing of that moment illuminated it. Because the poems arise from ‘small’ epiphanies, I use an airy, slight form. I see the pieces in this series as aspiring to an impact similar to haiku: simultaneously grounded in image and allusive, they invite a re-seeing of what is before us.”
Date Published: 2020-04-08
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/way-we-love-something-small