Poem for Sunday

It’s a beautiful morning. It’s early. It’s spring. I’m grateful for the day.

I Tell You

(excerpt)

I could not predict the fullness

of the day. How it was enough

to stand alone without help

in the green yard at dawn.

How two geese would spin out

of the ochre sun opening my spine,

curling my head up to the sky

in an arc I took for granted.

And the lilac bush by the red

brick wall flooding the air

with its purple weight of beauty?

How it made my body swoon,

brought my arms to reach for it

without even thinking.

*

In class today a Dutch woman split

in two by a stroke -- one branch

of her body a petrified silence,

walked leaning on her husband

to the treatment table while we

the unimpaired looked on with envy.

How he dignified her wobble,

beheld her deformation, untied her

shoe, removed the brace that stakes

her weaknesses. How he cradled

her down in his arms to the table

smoothing her hair as if they were

alone in their bed. I tell you -

his smile would have made you weep.

*

At twilight I visit my garden

where the peonies are about to burst.

Some days there will be more

flowers than the vase can hold.

~ Susan Glassmeyer ~