Old fillings fall out—old
infatuations rise
up—old habits move
on—old stories settle
in—I’m not so old I can’t tuck
myself into the next
roll over.
dentist
Oral Savior
Shakes my hand
for choosing to walk
right past that survival
sign. No longer a tobacco
stained talker, I just smile
my way toward prevailing bluffs.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 