that’s all (matthew 14)
you know what?
it’s a miracle, the perennial daring
of the bud to step into the sun in late February, after
a long sleep of subconsciously hoping
unforced rhythms of grace
The sun was setting as I waited in my car in the parking lot of my friend’s apartment complex, jotting down some ideas for a poem in my journal. I looked up as two boys, probably about ten years old, came racing down to the dumpsters, laughing, hauling their massive bags of trash above their heads and hurling them into
