where the featured reader, enamored with smiles
and polite applause, forgets to take a break. 
When he says, Three or four more, I’m undone.

Off the sofa, over stretched out legs,
passed glasses of wine caressed attentively
in hands craftier than mine, I find the bathroom

unoccupied – except for a slow drip in the sink
and a basket full of magazines. I could be content 
to spend the night in this retreat, muting the ahs 

from the living room, tamping the groans of windows
shivering from the rain. Here: submission calls,
elegies for Broadway shows, photos of expiring worlds, 

and, to my surprise, memories of a teenage girl
hiding in the tub with For Whom the Bell Tolls.
Entrenched in love scenes, she ignores candles 

dripping down her birthday cake and giggles
from a party game. A waste, she looks at me,
this sweet sixteen surprise. Why ... but a determined rap

on the door announces a line flooding the hall.
The girl commiserates. This, before I can ask
if she’s heard of Ann Patchett and Bel Canto.
From associate professor of English to management trainer to retiree, Carolyn Martin is a lover of gardening and snorkeling, feral cats and backyard birds, writing and photography. Her poems have appeared in more than 130 journals and anthologies throughout North America, Australia, and the UK. Her fifth collection, The Catalog of Small Contentments, will be released in 2021. Currently, she is the poetry editor of Kosmos Quarterly: journal for global transformation. Find out more at www.carolynmartinpoet.com. 
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