LeAnne Hunt

The Body Holds Small Revolts

I lost my first—and only— engagement ring
trying to recapture my throwing arm
in a park.

My—then—husband refused
to replace it. You don’t take care of things.
And I don’t.

I misplace phones, keys, purses
or leave them at a restaurant
and circle back.

I rely on the kindness of strangers
to help me find
what I’ve lost in this world.

They run after me, Ma’am, I think you left this.
I bless them for their kindness.
And mean it.

I must exist to raise the goodness in others,
the way yeast consumes sweetness
to create what’s needed to survive.

I’ve left so much of my life behind,
deliberately or not. But anxiety
will remind me at 2 am from a dead sleep.

My first husband gave me an engagement ring
with a protruding diamond that scratched me
if I were careless.

I decided against a wedding band—
my ring finger would swell
after only a few hours.

So I lost both engagement and wedding ring that day,
but a small white circle remained
on my finger for years.

I’ve since replaced the husband,
and the skin has tanned him away,
though I have nightmares.

I have a wedding band now and a better man,
although I still don’t wear rings—
my flesh will rise to encircle any band.

I keep the ring safe in a box in a home,
and in a carryon when I travel.
I don’t leave it behind.

I am careful for kindness.

LeAnne Hunt (she/her) grew up in the Midwest and now lives in Orange County, California. She is a regular at the Two Idiots Peddling Poetry reading at the Ugly Mug in Orange. She has poems published in Cultural Weekly, Spillway, Honey & Lime, and Lullaby of Teeth: An Anthology of Southern California Poets. She publishes a blog of writing prompts and apologies at leannehunt.com