Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Completely Sacramental: A Poem


When
exactly
did
it
happen?
When did I turn
and playfully kiss the air,
delight in chickadee-suet-dancing
and the unblinking snowy owl gaze?
When did I take your hand so easily,
no makeup, broken nails
and dog poo on my boots?
When did the voices in my head,
hush and kneel,
every day ending in “y”
completely sacramental?

KN

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