a poem a day for a year #106

by Amy Turn Sharp


I went to the hardware store and bought all the supplies to make bows and arrows,
hemp and rope and wood and dowels,
and I winked at the old man storekeeper when I slid him my money,
when I pushed pennies across the old wood counter and cleared my throat.
He asked me what I was making
and I told him that my ancestors were cupids.
I told him love at first sight is not a cliche.
He laughed and I heard his heartbeat smooth and strong.