This morning I drove
before dawn to the home
of my dear friend to give
thanks, cook duck and Brussels
sprouts sauteed in butter, and
as I rounded the corner
to cross over the bridge at
the Hood Canal there
she was, Venus, in a new
piece of the sky, and I
don't know why she is
the sign I need that life
is everywhere and vibrant,
that some joys require
darkness to shine, that
I am loved, but I will not
be ungrateful or question
what is clearly an offering
given to me blatantly
steeped in grace.
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