Today is my husband’s birthday. I wrote him a poem. The poem came from a prompt from Georgia Heard during her Write Bites workshop with Ralph Fletcher. She shared Imperfection by Elizabeth Carlson. Elizabeth’s poem begins with the line “I am falling in love with my imperfections.” It’s a wonderful poem about accepting your faults. I turned my attention to the imperfections of our house. If you own your own home, you’ll understand. This week we had a water heater go out. Oh my, how we take hot water for granted until it’s gone.
Imperfection
after Elizabeth CarlsonI’m learning to love
the smell of dust gathering
in soft corners
how mold creeps in the crevices
of window sills.I’m finding joy
in the left behind sliver of soap,
stash of tea-stained cups,
single smelly sock.Our house has become a home
of imperfections. That door
never stays shut. That switch
doesn’t turn any light on.We are ignoring the leak
streaking the living room wall. I’d rather sit
next to you on the sofa,
make space for the dog between us,
talk about the day behind, the future ahead.Let the house be. Let the rain come.
Margaret Simon, 2025
Reflections on the Teche 