Blue Worry – by Jennifer LeBlanc

The jet cuts across the cold, clear sky.
I am not at all concerned about the bad omens in my dreams.
You remember the night I flew through the kitchen like a fury,

cleaning through my worry
as though lemon citrus could bring calm.
The jet cuts across the cold, clear sky.

Every eavesdropped word, every song seemed to say,
How many shades of blue in van Gogh’s room?
the night I flew through the kitchen like a fury.

How long before I give up holding disaster at bay,
let the flawed order of the world show its charms,
the way a jet cuts across the cold, clear sky

and there’s no telling how close or far away.
You almost held me back, your hand on my arm
the night I flew through the kitchen like a fury

as if to say,
I’m here until this fear is disarmed.
The jet cuts across the cold, clear sky
direct as the night I flew through the kitchen like a fury.

 

Jennifer LeBlanc earned an MFA in Creative Writing from Lesley University. Her first full-length book, Descent, was published by Finishing Line Press (2020) and was named a Distinguished Favorite in Poetry (2021) by the Independent Press Award. Individual poems have been published or are forthcoming in journals such as Consequence, Solstice, Nixes Mate Review, San Pedro River Review, and The Main Street Rag. Jennifer is a poetry reader for Kitchen Table Quarterly. She was nominated for a 2013 Pushcart Prize and works in the English Department at Tufts University.