Trying by Anna Harris-Parker

For years, no children:
a choice—favor 
for a world
with too many
open mouths, too
little water, 

Wedding rings
make us mind
a number of things.

Now, we worry:
dozens of wishes
whispered over
lemon cake, 
decades spent
pacing, spreading 

Twins run
in my family,
my husband offers. 
What he means:
two birds, just 

Mine, too, I think:
mania and depression,  
cocaine and whiskey.

Still, I want four birds.

Anna Harris-Parker's poems have appeared in AMP, Cellpoems, Slant, and other journals. Her chapbook, Dress, is forthcoming from Main Street Rag. She teaches at Augusta University, where she also directs Writers Weekend and advises Sand Hills literary magazine.

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