Box of Disquiet

truth be told
part of me has lived
in this box of disquiet
for years and years
let’s see
one still summer’s day
two of my teeth came out
baby teeth
plop plop
ripe pears
falling from my mouth
I gasped and flushed
poked my finger in the
wet gum
and knew I wanted
to plant them
in the backyard garden
behind the wild raspberries
under the clumps
of bee balm
and scary weeds
I had on a pale -yellow organza
dress with buttons up the back
and sprigs of apple blossoms
pink and green
sprinkled on my chest
and a pine velvet ribbon
tied at my waist
and my feet were
round and bare
I pushed
and pushed on the
heavy porch door
until it opened
my arms and legs
falling into the air
rushing through prickly grass
and cat’s pee and
other bits of
smelly life
I flopped on the ground
digging
with my knuckles
a dirt home for my teeth
and then shoved them
in a walnut
cracked open and
painted gold
pressed it into the dirt
and quickly covered it up
soon I was called in to a
lunch of milk
and beef and
beans
the house was quiet
and strange
I washed my hands and
my feet
and sat at the table
lighter and sadder
and thought
outside that window
in a tiny
treasure house
there’s a
a part of me
stuck
in the ground

In her poems, Detroit writer, Suzanne Scarfone paints the visionary moments found in the smallest details of everyday life. She has published widely, produced two music and poetry CD’s, and composed a song cycle entitled Wild and Wordless. Her chapbook Walking in Sound is forthcoming in March 2025.