One Morning in July

Suddenly you are washed

With gratitude for waking

With the sun and a light breeze

One morning in July.


Seven pains, originating

In various organs or perhaps

Your imagination, ascend,

Like Jesus, into the sky.


The flowering apricot,

Whose blooms appeared

Like a miracle in February,

Runs the keyboard


Like Jerry Lee Lewis

On "Great Balls of Fire."

You close the door

On your library of regrets,


Do seventy sit-ups and step

Outside to a choir of birds

Informing each other

Of their continued existence


On this planet hurtling through

Empty space and the remnants

Of "I Love Lucy" sent out 

Into the universe in 1957.


A three hour meeting about

Human Resources waits for you

Tomorrow, but the breeze lifts

You up and carries you to an oak branch


Where you look down on the neighborhood

And realize you can fly.  A robin floats

Down beside you and says:

"What took you so long?"


                                      Atlanta, July 3, 2010