Talisman

Back in the nineties,

Charles Wright, already

Deep in his sixties,

With his most esteemed

Decades still in front

Of him, called his poems

Verbal amulets.

Poems as good luck charms,

As phylacteries,

Does feel right. It’s why

People quote the ones

That they’ve memorized,

At least those few lines,

Why they repost them

To social spaces.

They’re incantations,

Little spells to ward

Off the terrible,

But not quite nazars,

Icons, or crystals—

No one uses poems

To ward away real,

Material harm.

They’re for keeping ghosts

And mental demons

At bay, for feeling

Reassured when blue,

Frightened, heartbroken,

For staring down death.

Wright scoffed at his own,

Reminded himself

Whatever happens

Will, with or without

Verbal amulets,

But struck that brave pose

From inside a poem.