Monday, July 11, 2011

                        this miracle begins in the middle
            lane: night, fallen: rain, snow, sleet, hail, falling
still: a loose crew of commuters crawling
            home on the turnpike. now, here’s the riddle:

                        some One blows a bubble of rubber air
            around my car, seconds before i brake
and skid, sideways and back, and finally make
            a 360 into the shoulder, where,

                        untouched, the car stalls out and comes to rest:
            who?               i haven’t been a monotheist
for a while, seeking a transcendent path

                        called by many names: but after, in the grim
            hush, i know two things: gratitude for breath
and whom i’d first learned to thank—and i thank Him.

Friday, July 1, 2011