Baby in a jar
There was just one left,
And the shelf seemed
so bare and lonely.
I took her home.
Instructions showed me how to put on nappies;
the jar was large and my hands
are small.
She didn’t cry.
She never cries.
And like a butterfly flapping its wings
somewhere across the world
She affects everything
Just by being here.
(first published in Contrary Magazine)
Tania Hershman is the author of two short story collections and now uses the word “poem” with slightly more frequency and slightly less angst to describe things that she writes.