Rebel Crow

He flouts the stealth 
God dressed him for
and lights instead
on noontime streets
to praise all things 
ripped open and abandoned. 
Rinds and peels and nutshells.
There's so much sustenance 
we so-called pious miss.
It's hard work seeing plenty. 
You can hear it in his voice.

Your Story

The great stone
of your story,
the one about
where you're going,
gets so heavy sometimes
that the tone
you've gained
from holding it aloft
so others could see
its weight
and your flexing
seems not worth
the way it's made
your circumambulations
smaller and you
too stiff
to let it go
let alone help others
drop theirs.

Gratitude

The definition 
of gratitude
includes the phrase 
"a desire to do 
something in return." 
I am overwhelmed 
by this desire.
But what can I 
give you in return?
You asked me 
if I would 
take care of you.
Yes, if taking care 
means to urge us 
both toward 
our best selves. 
I don't know  
if this is gratitude, 
which begins with 
"the quality 
of being thankful,"
or just a hunger 
to share each rare
and vivid day
with you, a quality 
I'm grateful to you for,
but one surpassing
definition.

On the Street Outside the Coffee Shop

When the accident happened,

the hurt person started giving gifts.

The thief forgot his blueprints

and ran into the street.

The young man dropped his politics

to simply do what must be done.

The executive sobbed

and held a stranger in his grief.

The waitress, turned against the rush

and calmly dialed for help.

The schoolgirl directed traffic

almost without weeping.

The athlete folded his jacket

into a pillow for the injured one.

The former alcoholic, who understood,

gave compassion to the driver.

The businesswoman forgot self-hatred,

kneeled to the child, and held

us all in her beautiful arms.