His eyes are seashells washed up on the shore.
His nose an anchor stuck in mud.
His head an egg shell broken by a baby bird.
His hair the baby bird’s feathers.
He coughs like a tug boat horn.
He curses like a thousand sneezes.
He complains like a TV commercial.
He walks like a goose ambling.
He sleeps like a man drowning.
He cleans hands like a surgeon.
He forgets like fish where to swim.
His hands grope like nets in the sea.
And he loves like no one else.
Marjorie Sadin is a nationally published poet with poems in such magazines as Chrysanthemum Literary Anthology, Blaze Vox, Big Windows Review, and The Jewish Women’s Literary Annual. She has published five books of poems including a chapbook, The Cliff Edge, and a full length book, Vision of Lucha about struggle and survival, love, death, and family. Recently she published a chapbook, In a Closet. She lives in Northern Virginia and reads her poetry in the Washington DC area.