Some poems seem ordinary until you come to the last line, which knocks you back on your heels.  Here’s an example from Maine poet, Dave Morrison.  This poem may not have made it into our summer issue without his final five words.

Wedding Matchbooks

When I was young, very
often you would attend a
wedding reception, and at
each place setting there would
be a book of matches with the
couples’ names, and the date
embossed on the cover.
It was a beautiful tradition;
weeks later you might light
a cigarette and wish Jerry and
Elaine a life of happiness, you
might throw a match on the
charcoal and remember Burt’s
funny and touching toast, you
might spark a firecracker and
wonder what the future held
for them, you might light the
pilot in the hot water heater
and wonder what went wrong.

Dave Morrison
Camden, Maine