Presence by Emily May Anderson

Silver hoop earrings on the slick wood of your coffee table,
I leave them there deliberately.  Of course I noticed

the glint of morning sunlight off their circles while you
busied yourself brewing coffee in the narrow kitchen,

but I took the mug gratefully and led you back to bed,
and when, some time later, we went through the ritual

of finding underwear, socks, bras, shirts, jeans, then the coats
and boots we’d left by the door, I chose for the first time

to leave something behind.  They take their place
beside your books and coasters, they say 

I was here, and I’ll be back.  They say I’m not afraid
anymore to have you owe me something.

Emily May Anderson lives in Columbus, Ohio, where she works as an adjunct professor and a freelance proofreader. She holds an MFA from Penn State University and has published poems and book reviews in a range of publications including Mid-American Review, Green Mountains Review, Diverse Voices Quarterly, Sweet, and others. She loves reading her poetry aloud to anyone who will listen.

Bay Laurel  /  Volume 2, Issue 1  /  Spring 2013