My favorite poem is the one I haven’t written yet.
—Martha Silano

When people ask, it’s impossible to choose.
Not just of my own poems, which I can’t recite,
but of all the poems that live in my heart,

and, thankfully, on my computer, so I can find
them when I need them. That Galway poem
about blackberries, and Merwin’s about

not knowing the anniversary of our deaths,
and Ellen’s about lovers meeting in the airport,
and Naomi’s poem about happiness—

and Robert Hass’s on the same topic with
one of the best lines ever: “our eyes squinched
up like bats.” I could go on and on, lost

in poems I love, and I sometimes do so
on purpose—open them on my desktop
and wade in, first to my ankles,

then to my knees, and the next thing
I know, I’m up to my neck, swimming
in lines I love by poets so dear to me

I call them by their first names
like some people do with their favorite
musicians. My own poems I love

like children—I cannot choose
between them—but the poems
that great poets have knit into

my very fiber, let me keep them
till my mind thinks its last thinks.
Let me die with poetry on my lips.

•••

(For Laura Martin / poet, moetess and birthday gal)

Poems mentioned:
• Galway Kinnell: “Blackberry Eating“
• W. S. Merwin: “For the Anniversary of My Death”
• Ellen Bass: “Gate C22”
• Naomi Shihab Nye: “So Much Happiness”
• Robert Hass: “Happiness”