It Isn't a Cellphone
Though he stares down at it as he cradles
it in the palm of his hand, as he and a younger
boy wait for the school bus on a frigid fall
morning, as I drive by on my way to work,
my mind crowded with the day’s to-do list,
as I get closer I can see that it is an orange
maple leaf, gilded with glittering frost, watch
as he holds it up to the rising sun, watch
as he gestures to his companion to look up,
and now, for a few brief seconds, all three
of us admire the vibrant color, the warm
and enduring glow.
Corey D. Cook's most recent chapbooks are: heads held low (Bottlecap Press) and Passing Cars (Maverick Duck Press). Over 300 of his poems have appeared in print and online publications. He works at a hospital in New Hampshire and lives in East Thetford, Vermont.
You can see more of Corey's work in 10.3