GATHERING
after Nina Bagley, by James Crews
I miss those days back when anything
I picked up became priceless and sacred —
a hunk of quartz glinting in the sun,
an old oak leaf dried to parchment,
a wild turkey feather snagged on a branch,
just waiting for me to pass by and claim it.
No matter that the leaf would turn to dust
and the feather lose all its softness
when stuffed in my pocket among sticks,
patches of moss, and the acorns I couldn’t
live without. What do I keep with me now
that is so essential? Paper bills, plastic cards
that pretend to say who I am, the keys
to house and car. I remember my mother
making me lay it all on the table before bed,
how the treasure I’d gathered came clattering
out of me — All of it, she’d say — evidence
of how rich I’d been for a single day.
James Crews’ work has appeared in The New York Times Magazine, The Sun Magazine, Ploughshares, and The New Republic, as well as on Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry newspaper column. He holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Wisconsin-Madison and a PhD in Writing & Literature from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, and is the author of four collections of award-winning poetry, including The Book of What Stays (Prairie Schooner Prize and Foreword Book of the Year Citation, 2011), Telling My Father (Cowles Prize, 2017), Bluebird, and Every Waking Moment. He is also the editor of several anthologies of poetry: Healing the Divide: Poems of Kindness and Connection; and How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. He leads Mindfulness & Writing retreats online and throughout the country, and works as a creative coach with groups and individuals. He lives with his husband, Brad Peacock, in Shaftsbury, Vermont.
Get Jane Edberg’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
*James Crews has given us permission to publish this poem.
