bethlehem, fall 2010
today is brought to you
by the sound of sirens,
of shrinking snow piles,
of branches, and breaking, and powerlessness.
by the big idea to make okonomiyaki,
a piece of a trip of a culture far away,
a hunt for ingredients all over town,
and the ten minutes it took to devour with glee.
today is brought to me
by the dream house down the street,
a bungalow with stained glass secrets,
sold out from beneath my pillow.
by the muffled noise of arguments a level down,
between he and the mama-to-be . . .
by the equal parts desire to help and hide just the same,
by the floor and the stairs and the miles between.
today is brought to us
by the unexpected things,
by peter, bob, and willie,
spinning on the record machine.
by the swelling heart of home i would write to wrap the world,
and the flock of blackbirds perched outside,
and the guitar plucking from the couch to my right,
and the end of a day that was mine all mine.
