Many a poem will be read today.  Some of them will be treacle, some treasure.  Today, Andrea Cohen splits a Mother-Child atom in nine lines and expresses the near impossibility of separating from unquestioning and complete attention.  Treasure indeed.

 

Boiling Point

Why should a watched
pot boil?  It’s busy
being watched, like

the child on the edge
of the high dive.
Why should she,

calling to her rapt
mother, watch
me, ever leap?

 

“Boiling Point,” from Furs Not Mine, a forthcoming collection by Andrea Cohen.  Reprinted with permission of Four Way Books. All Rights Reserved.

Andrea Cohen, MACD-09, 088,#002Andrea Cohen’s poems and stories have appeared in Poetry, The Atlantic Monthly, The Threepenny Review, Glimmer Train, The Hudson Review, Memorious, and elsewhere. Her poetry collections include Kentucky Derby (Salmon Poetry 2011), Long Division (Salmon Poetry 2009), and The Cartographer’s Vacation (Owl Creek Press 1999).  Her forthcoming collection, Furs Not Mine, will be published by Four Way Books.  Andrea Cohen has received a PEN Discovery Award, Glimmer Train’s Short Fiction Award, the Owl Creek Poetry Prize and several fellowships at The MacDowell Colony. She directs the Blacksmith House Poetry Series in Cambridge, MA.  Visit her at www.andreacohen.org