Poetry by Pamela Manasco

     Andrew Parlette CC




On the Worst Days, I Make a List of Reasons


Saucer magnolias ivory on the inside flopping
open, no backbone. The sizzle of hot oil
and chicken. Every now and then a shooting
star. A rose in the backyard untended, 
blackspotted, orange-petaled. Cold 
requiring scarves and hats, remembering
to crank the car and turn the heat full blast
fifteen minutes before it's time to leave.
The soft paws of a dog folded just so,
twitching in sleep like a prancing deer.
Thick metal wind chimes. Past midnight, down
the hill, well-lit living rooms in other houses.
The broken bell sound of a metal bat cracking
a baseball just right. A long time ago, 
the first divine crack of unleavened bread,
the eight identical pendant lights illuminating
the whole church, the feeling when everyone
sang together, that it may happen again.

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Pamela Manasco is a poet and English instructor at Alabama A&M University. Her poetry has appeared in Rattle, SWWIM, Susurrus, The Midwest Quarterly, New South Journal, and others. She lives in Madison, Alabama with her family. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @pamelamanasco, and via her website: https://pamelamanasco.com.