Let the day lift you, brush of stars

from open eyes, sun curling across

the hardwood, dream shadows,

these heavy reaching arms.

Feel the feet catch the floor, toes

to heels, brace of earth

to chaperone the hours as they

spill and take your shape.

Perhaps this is the day joy

will carry you, chiming chorus

of “yes” and “thank you,” a

whirring inside your cells.

Or maybe you will pin yourself here

in ordinary time, leaving yesterday

to fold up the lost words, still-latched

plans, your silent, waiting scenes.

You could walk out the door, ripe

with love, be razed

to slivering air.

The last breath could bring forgiveness.

Or it could steal in at the traffic light,

the printer, standing in line with your milk

as you meet the eyes of a small girl

lost in her mother’s skirts.

Maybe you will skate unharmed, unchanged,

unthinking through it all, while the coffee

brews and the egg yolk slides,

golden, across the pan,

everything you touch

a mystery that waits

unsung.