Poems by Joan Canby
Right blade in a pair of scissors,
left sock of a pair of gray argyles,
middle cushion in the sofa,
second step in the stepladder,
middle C not B sharp, each one
thinks it is the one most necessary.
Grasshopper eats my orange tree,
villain of my garden –
forgive him too?
Joan Canby is a graduate of Vermont College
of Fine Arts and now lives in Texas.