Karen Neuberg

Anniversary of...

A disturbance the size of Rhode Island
is visiting me from behind my serenity,
prying under my calm like the Atlantic Ocean
still churning although the storm has moved
further up the coast toward Nova Scotia.
Gently lapping against my central equanimity,
it carries a memory of rocking chairs—
there’s the one I sat in while the baby nursed, 
and another I sat in as a child while my mother
showered, me a big girl on my own 
for those few minutes. It had a decal
of a teddy bear on its blue-plush back
and reminds me of my own teddy gone
swimming in the toilet after some impulse
caused me to toss him in. These thoughts
splash in my mind as I attempt to clear a lane
that recaptures glints of bobbing light. 
I’m glad Rhode Island is our smallest state, 
though I would have wished it not
visit me at all. The last time I was there
was to hang out with an old school friend,
me in a rocking chair beside him 
propped up in his home-hospice bed
instead of in the shed at Tanglewood,
listening to Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring,”
while protected from the storm.


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Karen Neuberg’s poetry has appeared in many journals including Hermeneutic Chaos Literary Journal, Marathon Literary Review, and Right Hand Pointing. Her most recent chapbook is Myself Taking Stage (Finishing Line Press). Links to more of her work can be found at karenneuberg.blogspot.com.

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