"Come See the Eggs!" -- A Poem

Shabbat afternoon on our raised wooden deck

I am connecting to a friend 

Across the social distance of a metallic round table

Some sound from beyond

We both turn to look

Down the long sloping lawn

(our backyard is a cut through) --

Two urging mothers and their parade of youngsters

Who are wheeled and heeled and beautifully dealed

A little girl with a bright satin sash around her middle

Calls to her friend -- or maybe her sister --

With an air of excited mystery

As if she is about to reveal a diamond, 

No, not a diamond so much as

A circus oddity

(It seems to me there is derision mixed in to her amazement)--

“Come see the eggs!”

I know what she will show her

We have a compost heap

On the side of the lawn

Marked off by fencing --

Grapefruit rinds, carrot peels, 

The hefty stalk of a cauliflower that takes up all the room in the small tin compost bin we keep in the house -- making it so full it has to be taken out -- even when it’s raining and muddy and dark  -- me in splotchy navy Wellies up to my knees, like a farm girl with a pail of slop -- 

And yes, egg shells -- 

Their shining white brightness 

Calling out to be noticed 

Like the sash on the girl’s dress.

“Come see the eggs!”

Amusement turns my face into a grin, 

And then a full-hearted laugh

My friend laughs with me

Though she doesn’t share the shame

Which is strangely also present

As if someone had seen me naked

Or examined my dirty bathroom

From the stance of their own perfect cleanliness

As if my true lowliness 

Had been uncovered by an aristocratic child.

I could argue with this shame --

“You should be proud -- you care for the earth!”

Or I could point out --

It’s my house, my backyard

They were passing through by my gracious benevolence.

Indeed, the mothers seem to have understood this --

They look embarrassedly up at us 

As they hush and rush the girls on.

I could argue with this shame

But I have not found that shame responds well to lectures.

It feels better to laugh again

At this incomprehensible world of ours

To laugh and join the little girl --

To become again a little girl 

With all her innocent enthusiasm

And ask the mothers, too, to drop their shame

As we all call out -- 

 

“Come see the eggs!”