John R. Lehr – 50th Reunion Essay

John R. Lehr

Toronto, Ontario

Canada

jrlehr@rogers.com

Spouse(s): Chunha Park

College: Timothy Dwight

From time to time, I have a yen to write a poem. Since I’m not a dedicated poet, I’m also not a practiced one, and my efforts never come out as I intend. Reading them back to myself is like listening to a recording of my voice. Is that what I sound like to other people? Nevertheless, I take the poems out for a perusal occasionally and am reminded of who I was and what I sounded like in years past. Here’s one that records who I was while drinking my morning coffee a little over three years ago. It’s about the cup and saucer.

I love this cup

for its consistent comforts:

its purity of form—concentric

circles echoing in the ripples

of its porcelain right out

to the lip and the saucer’s edge;

its refinement of common design—

the dark blue stripe at the rim, limiting

the flow of white glaze, as the shadowed

shore limits the lake;

its wide mouth, which feels like generosity;

its moderation in weight and fragility—

not too heavy, not too worrisome;

its middling depth, like a shallow pool

that does not conceal the sand and pebbles

shimmering at the bottom.

This cup contains but does not enclose.

Its contents tip out cleanly and without violence.

Every morning as I drink my coffee

it tells me that life can sometimes be like this—

reassuringly open and elegantly plain.