Joy
by Libby Kurz
After a weekend away
I enter the house
and breathe
its invisible scent.
I see the ceramic bowl of oranges
sitting on the counter
just as it did last week,
and there in the swivel chair,
my teenage daughter’s face
shines in the light
of her phone screen.
Up the flight of stairs,
dust and dog hair
huddle in the corners
of every landing,
and my mind thinks
the very same thought
as it did three days ago—
I must clean this.
In the bathroom,
a light pink rim appears
where stagnant water
meets the porcelain bowl,
and on my bedside table
the same old rings of coffee
stain the chipped white wood.
Imagine leaving your life
and returning to it
like an objective observer.
Imagine looking around
and deciding that if
you could choose anything,
you would still choose this.
Libby Kurz is a writer, poet, registered nurse, and US Air Force veteran. She holds a BS in Nursing from UNC-Charlotte and an MFA in Creative Writing from National University. Her work has appeared in Ruminate, Relief Journal, Driftwood Press, and Literary Mama, among others. Her poetry was awarded first prize in the New Voices category of the Poetry Society of Virginia’s 2017 Contest, and in 2019, Finishing Line Press published her poetry chapbook, The Heart Room, which chronicles her experiences working as a cardiothoracic nurse in Norfolk, Virginia. She currently teaches poetry and trauma writing workshops for The Muse Writers Center. After a decade of moving cross-country with the military, she resides in Virginia Beach with her husband, three children, and 100-lb lap dog. She’s currently at work on a memoir about violence, sexuality, and faith.
