Canned Fruit in the Crawl Space
by Diana Morley
Mom has no use for Bible talk—sinners, saints,
all gobbledegook cooked up to snag your soul.
When she and Jesus met by chance, each stared
in disbelief, asked out loud which of us is real?
Jesus saves souls, not worldly goods;
Mom who saves goods, asks really, my soul?
Where among shoeboxes, souvenirs,
other things kept handy in case of war?
Maybe lost in first-aid formulas—
among recipes for drinks or desserts.
Her house stuffed like holiday turkeys
stuffed over the years, like canned fruit
stashed down in the crawl space,
under the skin flap for good measure.
One-legged hummingbird stares through
a window, swaying on a skinny leg, sees
her tuck a deck of cards into each box
packing for a hard move to a new house.
Mom and Jesus sit at a card table frowning
at cards. Between hands she looks up, stares
into the headlights of the coming move—
silently praying for a good hand later.
This second-place winner is such a quirky, fun poem—a one-of-a-kind poem. It rose quickly toward the top.
Diana Morley’s poem “Midnight” was published in Right Hand Pointing; “Mark My Words” received Honorable Mention at Passager. Something to Howl About, literary fiction published in 2014, received four 5-star reviews on Amazon paperback and Kindle. Diana has read poems at Bloomsbury Books, facilitated the Ashland Writers’ Group, and regularly reads poems at an open mic in Talent. She also enjoys hiking and giving out dog treats.