By Darlene Pagán
In Sandra Alcosser’s book A Fish to Feed All Hunger, there is a poem called “Salamander” that begins
My lover brought me …
The poem goes on to many things, but it brings to mind the notion of all the things those closest to us bring as gifts, or thanks, or curiosities, that surprise us, win us, and sometimes, disgust us.
The rift in expectation is what becomes most interesting, and sometimes the remorse of not recognizing a gift when it’s given. It reminds me a little of the heads of rabbits my old tomcat used to drop on the porch, nevermind what my sons often show up with after a trek in the woods. Or several gifts my husband bought me in our early years.
Begin writing, “My lover brought me … .” Replace the word “lover” with son, daughter, neighbor, friend brought me … . This could result in fiction, nonfiction, or poetry. The object will drive the narrative.
Image by Entrer dans le rêve via Flikr.