God, you’re supposed to be
a big bright
problem-solver
not my weak
little partner
scared as I am
here in the dark
God, you’re supposed to be
a big bright
problem-solver
not my weak
little partner
scared as I am
here in the dark
I am in the park in the dark under layers
of cloud. I could be in bed,
or dead. But I’m not. I’m here.
I’m almost surely, certainly here.
There’s a measure of peace in all things,
a first warm sky of the season
in every bleating cold rainy dark
and so, though I see
neither through nor branch
in the blue from my couch,
my body’s settled to become
a meadow for the birds
She makes the world go when she drives