National Poetry Month: Day Eleven

Shift

The first light
that falls
on the backyard's broken things
makes everything appear
sad and tragic
can easily lead the morning
down the path of not
enough and despair.

I could easily spend
half the day
stuck between
the unused tomato cages
and the old limping table.

Light shifts though

and the flowers on the porch
give off a light
all their own
and a walk
around this familiar block
can shake things loose.

I might catch myself singing
a song while I wash the dishes
or watching ordinary birds at the feeder.

I might just finish that book in the
nick of time and find myself
wandering through a long
stretch of hours
scribbling words
that just this morning
I thought were impossible.