A Post for David and Stacey, With Much Love

Things

by Jane Kenyon

The hen flings a single pebble aside
with her yellow, reptilian foot.
Never in eternity the same sound --
a small stone falling on a red leaf.

The juncture of twig and branch,
scarred with lichen, is a gate
we might enter, singing.

The mouse pulls batting
from a hundred-year-old quilt.
She chewed a hole in a blue star
to get it, and now she thrives....
Now is her time to thrive.

Things: simply lasting, then
failing to last: water, a blue heron's
eye, and the light passing
between them; into light all things
must fall, glad at last to have fallen.

Comments

[Jennifer Michael Hecht]

Wow Laura that was just what I wanted. Thanks. JK sure could sling a verb.

[Stacey]

Thank you Laura, for thinking of us.
Stacey