Posts Tagged ‘sign’

on the brightest day
the shadows steep darker—
winging through them
on imperceptible wind
a white feather

Read Full Post »



Open your hands, lift them.

            —William Stafford, “Today”



The parking space beside the store when you

were late. The man who showed up just in time

to hold the door when you were juggling five

big packages. The spider plant that grew—

though you forgot to water it. The new

nest in the tree outside your window. Chime

of distant church bells when you’re lonely. Rhyme

of friendship. Apples. Sky a trove of blue.


And who’s to say these miracles are less

significant than burning bushes, loaves

and fishes, steps on water. We are blessed

by marvels wearing ordinary clothes—

how easily we’re fooled by simple dress—

Oranges. Water. Leaves. Bread. Crows.



Read Full Post »





A purple crocus,

a hole in the clouds,

an empty lipstick case,

a pearl button,

scent of mint,

a left turn signal,

yellowed lace—

ask the world a question

and what can’t be seen

as a potential sign—

star-shaped balloon,

unbruised apple,

elk by the highway,

accidental rhyme.



Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: