Morning

A sweetgum is silhouetted
        against the east cream-sky, leaves like
                star-shaped kids’ cereal sogging
In forgotten milk.

Weathered, brittle plastic toys lie
        scattered in the backyard glowing
                in faint beatific rose light
For a little while.

The house sits quiet and languid
        as the summer air outside feels
                like a held breath, waiting to burst
Out, then in again.

When the kids wake, the spell will be
        broken, but for the time being,
                the world itself seems possible,
Open, blank, watching.

Maybe today’s news won’t happen,
        and all is cream and roses and
                God is standing back of it all
                        Breathing, “It is good.”

Image: Appalachian Sunrise, Watauga County, N.C., July 2018.

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