a leaf
travelling across the pond
pushed by the wind
sunlight on the wall
blackbird splashing
pausing, splashing
such ordinary things
spilled tea
the watchful cat
ordinary things so precious
i am afraid to name them
a dented pillow
sunlight in its folds
impossible to understand
how light can fall on these hands
as if there's nothing to it:
the grace of ordinary things
so precariously ours
when whole stars are eaten
and worlds boil dry
