Of Sundays to Come

Laine Derr

A bear knocked on my door as he does on Sundays. He knows my routine, morning meditation, habit I picked up before my wife fell ill. He has grown old with me, our teeth worn down. As is typical he has brought a collection of poems, penned by a minor poet, and reads, “Our love grew up in a seaside town. Our love is shirtless.” We laugh – full bodied – as his heavy paws slap the mahogany table, a present from years past. We move outside, enjoying first days August, identifying shades of orange from the newly bloomed rhododendrons, a stark contrast to his black mottled fur. Picking wild strawberries, ones that will be placed in our lunchtime fare, I am reminded of ignorance, its need to kill the known and unknown alike, and am hopeful of tomorrow, of Sundays to come.

Laine Derr holds an MFA from Northern Arizona University and has published interviews with Carl Phillips, Ross Gay, Ted Kooser, and Robert Pinsky. Recent work appears or is forthcoming from Antithesis, ZYZZYVA, Portland Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere.