Monday, January 11, 2016


Just before admitting
that it might feel good
to talk about it,
you realized—something must be wrong 

when you could not help but notice, specifically 
how the sum total
of perfect pearls 
of last night's rainwater—all

beaded, stilled,
and gathered-up clear 
on a narrow yellow spear
of fallen leaf 

lying and glinting back
up at you, there
in the new morning

somewhat disappointingly,
one number off—
from your usual self-declared 
lucky one.