did it just start to
sing, that brown bird, or did I
just start to listen?
*
a night of fretting,
but the day comes in with a
cartwheel
*
that letter so much
more precious now that I
have lost it
*
once I took all the
books off the shelves, God arrived
with a blank page
*
today
the leaf just
a leaf
*
no pillow tonight!
the poem just grabbed a drum
and crooked its finger
*
but I don’t know how
to fly, I said, and God said,
start by falling
*
still cupped in my hands
this song hummed to me
seven years ago