LUCK
Maybe you must be a mother
who’s raised a child to adulthood
a woman living in the kingdom
of her back yard, sweat bees,
hosta, the cool mist rising
from the holly tree,
to feel as much
time and solitude as anyone could wish for
is never enough. All it took
was a lifetime, a thousand moments
of luck and here I am
in possession. I believe
it’s a grand thing to sell
nothing. How easily satisfied I am
with my nearly paid-off mortgage,
my dog, the mourning doves
cooing on the roof, this backyard I love
as much as the rooftops of Paris.
*
Katherine Smith’s recent poetry publications include appearances in Boulevard, North American Review, Ploughshares, Mezzo Cammin, Cincinnati Review, Missouri Review, Southern Review, and many other journals. Her short fiction has appeared in Fiction International and Gargoyle. Her books include, Argument by Design (Washington Writers’ Publishing House, 2003), Woman Alone on the Mountain (Iris Press, 2014), and Secret City (Madville Press, 2022). She works at Montgomery College in Maryland.
