Meg Malachi

I Know That You Have No Bones

One day I’ll learn
that poetry
is not always
a banquet of cheap memorabilia,
or the stake on which
I swindle myself out of grief—

sometimes it is
a sweet gesture:
my mother, who backs up the car
just far enough
to shine light on the
front door
so that my grandmother
can see her way in.

Meg Malachi hasn’t been minding her business since 1994.