c o n v e r g e n c e:
an online journal of poetry & art

EDITOR'S CHOICE: cynthia linville's

Jeremy Cantor

Photograph by Brent Wiggans

Photograph by Brent Wiggans


By Jeremy Cantor

The hawkmoth knows
that she will have to provide for her offspring
somewhere else.
She sees that my tomato plants
are surrounded by a forest of alyssum
whose flowers are already
drawing the tiny parasitic wasps
whose children would devour hers
were she so foolish
as to lay her eggs nearby.
She doesn’t even have to think it over.
But it rained very hard last night
and I still believe
that as she flies past my garden
she takes a bit of comfort at the sight
of the rain-crushed alyssum
beaten flat against the earth
looking like that forest in Siberia
after the Tunguska Event


By Jeremy Cantor

this seaside town
where we used to bring the children
is one huge garden

as after a long drink of water
on a hot day
my eyes feel full

when I close my eyes
I will see flowers and leaves and surf

"How do you feel?"
I asked.

She said,
"Something is breaking like ice in the spring"

Photograph by Ruben Briseno Reveles

Photograph by Ruben Briseno Reveles


By Jeremy Cantor

Why thank you
yes, they are beautiful aren't they
my grandmother brought them over from Warsaw
they were made in Czechoslovakia, see here underneath?
she left because she had to of course
things had just got too ugly there
she was so happy when she met my grandfather
and so was he, they thought that
now they would be happy, now they would
always have what they
always had been missing
of course they stayed together later
in spite of it all
that's what people did

No, those are fruit bowls
the others got broken
I only have three and I haven't been able
to find replacements, not even at those places
where the serious collectors go
they have the big plates and the saucers and
the occasional gravy boat and creamer but
never the pieces I'm looking for
odd, isn't it
no I don't think it's just me not at all
it seems like everybody breaks
the same pieces

Jeremy Cantor
Jeremy Cantor

Jeremy Cantor began writing poetry at the age of 50. At 60 he retired from a career in laboratory chemistry. He prefers writing. He now considers it unfortunate that his test scores allowed him to skip Freshman English at the University of Michigan, where he took no classes in literature or writing. He wishes he had begun writing earlier.

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