I wake to a thunder from inside,
another clash of infection,
the bank crying about a lacking,
the phone company barking,
the fence degrading, and then
one of our dogs jumps over
and I cannot find her anywhere.
I’ve got to go to work, I have
errands and deeds and paperwork,
but this will need to be put on hold,
The dog is found, safe. One check
to the good, I fix the fence, pull
a few weeds, a beginning tree,
and reinforce the leaning.
It’s already a hundred outside,
sunlight behind a humidity of clouds,
and then the news comes through –
a granddaughter, born four AM,
six pounds, healthy, already beautiful –
and sun breaks through the cloud cover,
the sunlit blossoms by the far wall
open their beautiful yellow faces,
the rose bush opens its red mouths,
the tiny white flowers, the lilacs,
the dandelions, the ripening mulberries
and all is right with my world.
| Copyright © 2021 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s volumes of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else and How Do We Create Love?, were published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018 & 2019, respectively. |
I need such daylight today myself, I have awoken to such a thunder in my own head. Thanks for the shining glimmer of hope.
ReplyDeleteAnd congratulations to every grandparent everywhere for every grandchild born today.