Squinting through fresh
joy I can see everything
the sun sees and like a
child full of new words
I wish to name all of us
who are here under this
upended periwinkle bowl
Tow truck! Convertible!
Cell tower! Foot bridge!
Dead raccoon! Another!
The steering wheel is a
warm gift in my palm
At a cellular level I am
aware of not being alone
At a cellular level I know
two raccoons now revel
somewhere having made
the most of embodiment
I am not too busy to
love whichever song
an algorithm chooses
as the sun loves all it
must touch. Today the
pines grow tall enough
to cast dark pools where
deer will graze a safe
distance from traffic
as the sun loves them
enough to feed the grass
and we are all still here
together boat trailer
ambulance red pickup
Even at night when a
tower of weathered logs
is consumed by a slow
controlled explosion
whose amber light I
receive in open hands
the sleeping cat makes
a long spoon of her body
and drinks every drop of
the tree that once held
her favorite red birds
Lauren Endicott is an emerging poet who is grateful for forthcoming publications in West Trade Review, Duck Head Journal, SEISMA, and others. She is also a masters student of social work training in psychotherapy. She lives in the greater Boston area with her spouse, two children, and cat.
