The night wind picks up
just a little, and the leaves
like the Creation of Adam
reach out their fingers
the stars, too, pointing
the darkened field
the failing thyme pot
thick scents of marigold
and me, holding a cat
humming on the porch
all of us extending
extending
No Adam, no God
just this moment
we have created
wholecloth together.
|
Submission Name: Genesis
