Welcome

The Good Day

Yesterday morning in the shower

I felt the bar of soap in my hand 

and knew this was going to be a good day,

and it was. 

Making breakfast,

I broke an orange apart 

slice by slice, 

and watched the egg’s clear skirt 

turn to white in the pan. 

Walking, I cherished 

a dance studio’s purple awning

and a cardinal’s whistle

and the smell of mulch 

around baby trees.

At my desk

I glided through the hours

from eight to five

with world-class mindfulness

and handled each surprise

with finesse, even the darts.  

In bed that night,

I promised myself I’d try

for another good day today,

but this morning, the soap 

slid out of my hand.

I picked it up and told myself 

today could still be good,

and it was, but alas,

not quite so good  

as yesterday’s

good day.    

Encounter with a Great Poet

On Sunday night I woke up feeling sick.

Waiting to vomit, I read through a book 

of Billy Collins. Finally, I went back to sleep.

I dreamed the poet and I sat in two rocking chairs.

I asked him how he wrote his poems, 

and he said that was something one didn’t ask.

Then he was in bed next to me. 

I was excited to be next to a Great Poet 

until I remembered I was supposed to call you. 

I got up and went out with my phone. 

The hallways were painted a hideous turquoise.

I had forgotten the number of our room.

I was still wandering when you got up 

to go down to the treadmill, while the poet, 

behind the door with the blurred number,

lay wondering what had become of me.

Unclenching

The snow decides 

when it will snow,

testing at first 

with a flake or three 

before making up its mind

in a swirl.

The snow decides— 

not some eighth grader

fixed on school closings

willing white moths 

out of the blank air.

The hand decides 

what bills to sign;

the other mouth can choose 

to kiss or not to kiss;

the dog controls his bark, 

the moon the moon.

Those boots that come marching

over the ridge will march:

the best we can do 

is oppose them.

Dear one, open your hand.

Surrender boots to boots,

kiss to kiss,

snow to snow.

Give back all things  

unto themselves

and sleep. art desires.