Four Poems by Jacqueline Jules

 

Listen to the Chicken 

 

 

Henny Penny ran in a panic 

when one acorn fell on her head. 

 

All the birds  

in the barnyard followed,  

their rhyming names repeated 

in a litany of alarm. 

 

No one in high office 

wants to be Henny Penny 

and send the public fleeing 

into the arms of a hungry fox.  

 

But what to do  

when falling objects 

are bigger than acorns 

and dropping too fast  

to dodge? 

 

Will those in charge declare 

the sky is not falling,  

call Henny Penny a fool? 

 

Or will they listen 

to the chicken 

who runs to warn us 

and stop worrying 

how much it will cost 

to stop the fox? 

 

 

Dinnertime in a Hospice House  

 

While the patient dozes in his wheelchair, 

one elbow on the arm rest, hand holding 

his forehead, the wife eats cereal for dinner. 

 

The aide sits at the other end of the table 

with a chicken dish brought in a plastic container  

and heated in the microwave. 

 

Both chew softly, careful not to disturb the patient 

who has slept seven out of the last twelve hours.  

 

It is so quiet the wife can hear the air 

blowing through the vents. 

 

It’s as if the house is practicing 

for the silence to come.

 

 

 

The Dream of Pain-Free Feet 

  

 

I’ve lost track of the money 

or how many things I’ve tried. 

 

Heel cushions, compression socks, 

wraps, night splints, orthotics.... 

 

Each one renewing hopes 

that the fibrous band of tissue 

running along the sole of my foot 

won’t always be inflamed. 

 

My feet will rebound 

like the woman in that Facebook ad 

who went from limps to leaps 

using a product not sold in stores,  

a special offer of only $60  

with a moneyback guarantee.  

 

Just like her, I'll walk again 

without wincing. If I can last  

until tomorrow when  

the next miracle cure 

arrives in the mail.

  

 

 

 

The First Task  

 

Numbered diagrams. 

 

Fifty-four in all.  

 

If I follow the booklet 

precisely, page by page, 

I can build a dresser with six drawers, 

make a place for sweaters and socks.  

Put undies out of sight.  

 

All the pieces are here. 

Hardware, too. I counted 

when I unpacked the box. 

 

Now I just have to focus  

on the first task,  

resist the urge to puzzle  

over what comes next  

or what might not fit  

together as it should.  

 

Do the first task, 

and trust I can handle 

the fifty-three remaining.

Jacqueline Jules is the author of Manna in the Morning (Kelsay Books, 2021), Itzhak Perlman's Broken String, winner of the 2016 Helen Kay Chapbook Prize from Evening Street Press, and Smoke at the Pentagon: Poems to Remember (Bushel & Peck, 2023). Her poetry has appeared in over 100 publications.

Visit her online at www.jacquelinejules.com