Friday, March 9, 2018

Moments Are Microscopes

So. This is the world.
Never mind the news.
Snow drips from the roof,
Staccato. It’s almost spring.

A man walks a large, white dog
Down the sidewalk and school kids
Pass the other direction.
Scattered birds whistle and coo.

I sit on the stoop,
A pronoun, a point of view.
There’s little left I can do.

Take comfort in the details,
Uncountable molecules.
Moments make the small soul huge.

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