poetry by j matthew waters

I keep my eggs on the kitchen counter

I buy my eggs from a lady outside of Palo
a short drive from here that can be reached
by way of three different routes

even though she lives on an acreage
in a modest ranch style house
with a couple of outbuildings
I tell people I only buy farm fresh eggs

she’s got chickens too
probably pigeons & field mice
& so many other cast out critters

once a year she sells me a few 10-pounders
I stash them away in the basement freezer
where they eventually disappear

on the kitchen counter is where I keep my eggs
all differently sized & colored
their eggshells thin & dirty
sitting pretty inside their recycled cubicles

april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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