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