I’ve beaten my own record. Again.
Most tears shed while thinking
of people who are kind.
First tears in the audience
at an elementary choir concert.
Longest number of days in a row
weeping for any reason.
If crying were a sport,
I’d be a contender.
Furthest distance
for projectile tears.
Most Kleenex’s used
while reading a single poem.
Greatest variety of emotions
that might inspire weeping.
I did have a good coach
in my mother. My grandfather.
My aunt. They modeled
crying for love, for grief,
for sincerity, for prayer.
I’m a legacy, really,
natural talent, plus
practicing all the time.
Blue sky? Bawling. Brave kids?
Sobbing. Great loss?
I’ve been a puddle for years.
And to think I used to try
to stop the tears.
As if they were something
to be ashamed of.
As if they didn’t make me
a real winner.