In Eden was heard, "What is this that you have done?"

As if the bird had seen the pane
on that wormless winter day –
to lie down in its own warmth,
                              melting snow,
like a brand into the earth –

Abandoning spring's hatchling
                              to fly alone.

An October Afternoon

Out on the patio I was drinking tea with honey;
Reading a collection of Billy Collins' poetry.

I looked up –

On the lawn everything was bright,
As if the autumn leaves were mirrors
Reflecting the sun in every direction.
I left my seat, ran inside,
(think of that – I ran inside to get a pad of paper)
As if the light were now in me –
Bounding into the house,
Around the corner to the desk where the paper lay
Then out of my fingertips into a poem.

Endings

You will die,
             as will I,
and maybe it will be
during this poem.
To think this to be
the last thing to see
before a going groan.

Good Morning

Today, I woke to my young child
asking for a warm cup of milk.
I placed my palm on his head
as I rose into the new day
with all its demands.

                         I dressed –
walked across campus –
the morning air was cool.

I went to eat in the college commons:
        oatmeal with brownsugar,
        an omlet with bacon, sausage, spinach, and cheese –

        then fresh fruit.

                         I ate slowly –
watched the sun approach my table
as if I were a king on this good morning.