Thursday, July 11, 2013


photoart: ralph murre


by Jeanie Tomasko
For Jon           
Now is a worn street on the east
side of town, now is
its sidewalk, its cracks                              
its dogs and women walking. Now is
its talking yard to yard, its front
porches, yawn-faced cats.
Now is a day of luscious light,
             the Sunday night of it,
fifth day into summer,
the fried-chicken-potato-salad of it,
            the friends, the table’s easy
laughter. Now is how
a body returns from darkness, how
a heart, how a thought, 
now is how to say given.

And this, the simplest grace: a wood floor 
shining with given, the garden
gate, repaired.
Every blade of grass is green with it.
Now is a plate heaped high
with it, and now, 

now is the whole blue onrushing world.

~ first published in The Midwest Quarterly