of waking in a room with a wide open window,
the air clear and ringing after night rain;
of needing no other reason than a sky
the unbelievable blue of which
sends you flitting deftly through the house
past the year-old jar of nails and flies,
the pile of dishes in the sink, and out the back door
where you're caught for an instant in the brightness
because the future's so much easier than you'd thought –
slipping your heart under the rosebush like a key,
everything you need in the canvas bag
resting lightly at your hip
and life as simple as turning left or right.
