so I save eraser shavings
just in case. I stay awake until morning
so I can water my plants with the sunrise,
but then I sleep all day
and the sun takes credit
for tomato blossoms.
I’m in a competition with the night sky
to see who can catch more sadness,
but there are so many different kinds,
and we disagree about the rules.
Like sometimes the moon and the sun
are in the same sky, or sometimes
the flower is poisonous to cats.
And when I lie down in the shower,
I am either closer to my skin or the ground.
And what happens when something is sad
for one person, but best in the end?
Like how sometimes a dead bird in the driveway
About the Author
Courtney Cliften was raised in the Nevada Desert. She writes poetry as an MFA candidate at the University of Nevada, Reno. Her poems have appeared in The Meadow, Helen Literary Magazine, An Anthology of Emerging Poets, and more. @courtneycliften