Serving House: A Journal of Literary Arts
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SHJ Issue 9
Spring 2014

[Two Poems]

by Andrea Potos

When People Ask Me: How Can a Poet Like Football?

I could say, because I am large I contain multitudes
I could tell them I believe in uncertainty and negative
possibilities, that I can hold in my mind blind hope—
a Hail Mary prayer tossed and found, or a ball slipping
like salt through cold-bitten fingers.  

I could tell them about my father, guaranteed home
those Sunday afternoons when I was his child,
the pleasant weight of my Yaya’s afghans, the tinkle
of ice in tall glasses of Tab as we huddled
together on the plaid den couch, shouting for the great god
Lombardi who was certain to rush in joy—colored Green
and Gold—upon the house and all the land.


Abundance to Share with the Birds

Another early morning
in front of the bathroom mirror—
my daughter making faces
at herself while I pull
back her long brown hair,
gathering the breadth and shine
in my hands, brushing
and smoothing before weaving
the braid she will wear
to school for the day.  
Afterwards, stray strands
nestle in the brush, and because
nothing of beauty is ever wasted,
I pull them out,
stand on the front porch and let them fly.  

—This poem was previously published in Poetry East and in Andrea Potos’s chapbook, Abundance to Share With the Birds (Finishing Line Press, 2010); reprinted here by author’s permission.


SHJ Issue 9
Fall 2014

Andrea Potos

is the author of four poetry collections, including We Lit the Lamps Ourselves (Salmon Poetry, 2012), and Yaya’s Cloth (Iris Press, 2007). Her poems can be found widely online and in print. She loves to travel and glean poems from her journeys.

“...we have been born here to witness and celebrate. We wonder at our purpose for living. Our purpose
is to perceive the fantastic. Why have a universe if there is no audience?” — Ray Bradbury