Poetics of Buttered Toast
Not Yet by Jane Hirshfield Morning of buttered toast; of coffee, sweetened, with milk. Out the window, snow-spruces step from their cobwebs. Flurry of chickadees, feeding then gone. A single cardinal stipples an empty branch— one maple leaf lifted back. I turn my blessings like photographs into the light; over my shoulder the god of… Read More Poetics of Buttered Toast