An Ordinary Morning
by Michael Escoubas

Some mornings are like this:
extraordinary in common things,
things you notice more acutely,
feel more deeply, like a newborn hare,

maybe six inches long, ears twitching,
hunched in the middle of the street
in grave danger. Or a raindrop waiting
lightly on a leaf, for its turn to drop,

moistening the earth. Or the clarity
of this particular day, as clouds give
way to blue and you can see farther
than before; at least it seems to be

that way. On this particular day,
when one senses change in the air,
even so, somehow you know
life is good. Though trouble

is part of life, you feel right anyway.
You are a part of things; God is here,
in all of it; this place called earth,
holds you in a pocket of love.

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