Already, still morning,
I have fed someone helpless
and attended to the needs of a dog
but as I walked
my little hobbling walk with her,
I failed to worship the sky.
As I ate precious cheese
I forgot to thank
the cows, farmers, microbes who made it.
The generous world grants me bounty
beyond measure every day,
yet I spend my time
regretting my losses,
a ship with its paint cracking,
neglecting to thank the ocean for its buoyancy.
—from Rattle #80, Summer 2023
Leslie Gerber: “One month about twenty years ago I started having a series of nightmares. I had not written poetry before, although I’ve been a writer of prose all my life. These dreams led me to write a series of poems. My wife, a very successful writer, looked at them and encouraged me to continue. Now it’s two decades and three books later and I’m still writing.” (web)