When the electric leaf-blower stops 
the world rushes back and you recall 

who you are, 
how many truly terrible people there are in the world, 

then how many are actually only petty, how much energy 
you waste on petty annoyances, 

and finally: how many beloveds. 
Now the motor of the mind 

can start up again—a healthy, quiet purr 
and in harmony: the distant train 

similarly unobjecting, only reminding us 
to be careful in its presence, 

though we don’t always hear the reminder 
just the distance. 

Nina Lindsay

is a previous contributor to KYSO Flash and the author of two collections of poetry from Sixteen Rivers Press: Because (2016) and Today’s Special Dish (2007). Her work has appeared in Barrow Street, Kenyon Review, Ploughshares, Poetry International, Prairie Schooner, Third Coast, and other journals.

More on the Web: By, About, and Beyond

⚡ After Rain, a poem by Nina Lindsay in Cider Press Review (Volume 23-1, April 2021)

⚡ Nina Lindsay at Sixteen Rivers Press (includes numerous resource links)

⚡ When I Was the Moon, a poem in KYSO Flash (Issue 11, Spring 2019)

⚡ To the Evening, a poem in KYSO Flash (Issue 2, Winter 2015)