‘Write your happiest moment,’
the teacher instructs. I fly –
not to the birth of either child, nor
wedding their father, not graduation,
not even breathing freedom
after two huge years
of Wicked Stepmother –
but standing in your arms
briefly … everything
winding down to zero.
Written in response to Quadrille #237: Zero at dVerse.
(A poem of exactly 44 words, including the word zero.)
And also in response to an exercise in writing teacher Natalie Goldberg's book for memoir writers: Old Friend from Far Away.
?