The Guts of a Blessing

Grace,

when it comes into a room,

is recognizable

but hard to put a finger on,

impossible to still.

Somewhere between

the plummet into love

and wonder at

a new green upshoot.

It comes

to re-balance us

and is gone.

A Few Kind Words

That mattered.

Thank you.

Sticky, raw,

and here’s love.

We’re always waiting

for our dreams to shatter,

connect

in the present moment,

in another person’s eyes,

in truth.

An old banana and an avocado can be rescued

if you catch them in time, change expectations.

They say you never get back a wasted day.

I wonder what grows best in idleness.

is like walking the pointer pup I would borrow
when I needed to not be my own master.

His habit of reassembling trees branch by lost branch,
needing to drag each one in his mouth.

Sniffing out anything that could be surprised.

Chasing whatever he could make move.

While I wanted to drag him the quick route home.

“Gentle,” I would tell him. “Gentle, Gus.”