Other Grace

Freight train
in the sky – nothing
sacred against such
storms as these. No
grace of quiet snow,
but ice and freezing
rain, and wind so wild
it strips the shadows
from the stars and lays
them on our souls, our
restless hearts. And finally
in darkness, nothing
left to see but who
we really are.


On a day like today,
when only the slim
edge of cloud reveals
that there might
be such a thing as
sunlight, and the wind
is bitter cold
like the space between
your belly and your
heart – let us move
toward one another,
or perhaps move closer
to ourselves,
and be grateful for
this sky
that makes us hunt
for small shelters.