One Woman's History of Earrings
by Philip Dacey


I have a half-dozen earring without mates.
What good are single earrings? To remind
me of losing the others. Places, names, and dates.
Sporting events, extreme, between the sheets
where no true love, an earring, was ever found.
I remember the searches, and the different
man each time. What was I really searching for,
down on my hands and knees, like a supplicant?
R. helped, and D. The others turned into a snore.
I learned great shadows live under beds. Still,
I've kept the singles. Even loss is sweet.
The parade of would-be princes. Tryouts for a role
yet unfilled. For now, I attach this bright weight.
Worlds dangle from pierced ears. Earth's a hanging ball.