November 2021
Bio Note: I grew up in Germany and now live in Rolla, Missouri where I teach physics at Missouri S&T and hike the Ozarks.
After moving to the US, I was unable to write for ten years, until I could finally start again, in English.
My two poetry collections are Porous Land (Spartan Press, 2019) and The Eden of Perhaps (Spartan Press, 2020).
In my Dream
I climb the stairs
to the old apartment
I haven’t entered
in years
but I get stuck
on the landing below
bricks and boards
block the steps.
The apartment is full
of things I haven’t wanted
since I’ve moved out:
dusty furniture, boxes,
suitcases stuffed
with hand-me-downs.
Mail is still delivered
to the broken letterbox.
I can never reach the door
but I carry the key
in my pocket
and I still pay the rent.
Missed Call
I cycle along Salem avenue.
The trees are resplendent
with October leaves.
The way home is all downhill.
My phone rings. Vivaldi,
her ringtone. She left
four weeks ago. I still cannot
bear to enter her room.
My hand reaches for the bag
in the basket, fumbles
with the zipper –
I fly
over the handlebar, crash
on the asphalt. Something sharp
scrapes my thigh. Something hard
slams into my ribs. Stunned,
I crawl to the curb. Breathe.
Check for broken bones.
A car slows. Are you okay? I nod.
Later, I pedal the rest of the way home.
I did not get to pick up her call.
The Cosmic Bank of Good Deeds
My mother’s garden
lies untended.
I send her flowers
over the internet. My hands
help another woman
on a different continent
mow her grass,
plant her tomatoes –
small deposits
into the cosmic bank
of good deeds. I hope
mom can make a withdrawal.
©2021 Agnes Vojta
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