Trish Hopkinson Verse-Virtual 2016 February

February 2016

I love words and dig poetry slams. I've been writing poetry since I was about 5 years old and my mother tells everyone I was born with a pen in my hand. I am a project manager by profession and reside in Utah with my handsome husband and our two outstanding children. You can read more of my work and follow my poetry adventures here: http://trishhopkinson.com/.

Lonely Soup

First, check refrigerator for ingredients:
potatoes,
couple of celery stalks,
unopened bag of baby carrots,
half an onion,
moldy strawberries.

Second, peel the potatoes;
throw out the berries;
chop the rest.

Third, place in a large pot with boiling broth.
Fourth, pour a glass of wine and wait.
Fifth, burn tongue tasting the soup.
Sixth, pour two ladlefuls into favorite glass bowl.
Seventh, consume soup,
pour more wine.

First, check email for messages:
a coupon,
an appointment reminder,
spam,
an advertisement,
more spam,
nothing from you.

Second, check voicemail and text messages;
there are none.

Third, look out the window into the driveway.
Fourth, pour a glass of wine and wait.
Fifth, scold heart for aching.
Sixth, question confidence and hairstyle.
Seventh, tears make for salty wine;
pour.

-originally published in the Eat Genius series. Everyday Genius. December 2014

Closure

That history—you can't express it. All
I could manage was a nod of the head.
The more I listened to the music, more
and more to face that moment, less and less
to tap the sun and make days of sunshine,
the kind of day you'll have. I'm not sure how
to do it right—a day off from the world—
the form of time and patience, cypress trees
with Spanish moss, the burning of a man-
uscript. My part is small—I closed the book.

-found in The Salt Lake Tribune, 6 April 2014: e-edition
-originally published in Sonic Boom. Issue 4. December 2015