On today's full moon, the 102^nd Moon Prize goes to Melinda Coppola's poem "Slack Satori."


Slack Satori     

by Melinda Coppola


I never was an island hopper
jet setting from continent
to continent,
or even state to US state.

When I leave something,
I walk away slow,
dropping footprints
like breadcrumbs

for miles, just in case
some tender thing
wants to follow me,
coax me back
to a different view
of some well trodden path.

Plodding through a life this way,
one has time to take notes
of all the people and places
that seemed unperturbed
by one’s leaving.

Adding to the list of things
one never gets over:

being born,
being shamed
unrequited love

pets and people dying.

Giving birth,
divorce,
miscarriages.

Realizing you aren’t special,
then finally realizing
you are.


* * * * *

Melinda Coppola writes from a messy desk in small town Massachusetts, where her four cats often monitor her progress. She delights in mothering her complicated, enchanting daughter who defies easy description. Melinda’s work has appeared in many fine books and publications, most recently One Art, Third Wednesday, and Anti-Heroin Chic.