For you I wish all the
unremarkable things:
clear skies and no ice
on days you run late,
a breeze on your cheek
as the dizzy sun sets,
long-lasting light bulbs and spotting
three dogs on the way home from work.
May God grant you leisurely baths,
and short grocery lines,
and good, soft socks
that last all winter long.
I wish for you luck at the flea market,
and in cards, and with coin tosses,
and that your remote doesn’t go missing
with the volume turned up.
I wish for you iced coffees with crunchy
sugar that tickles your tongue,
warm September Saturdays spent
with Frisbees at uncrowded parks,
beach days and snow days
and days with nothing to do at all.
For you I hope that the wine
doesn’t stain your white tablecloth
and the fire stays warm until you finish
that hand-me-down paperback book.
May God give you double-yolked eggs
and lavender soap
and the campsite with a view
of the Turkish-blue lake.
May strangers be kind, and the tea
always warm, and may the day last
just a few minutes longer, with the marmalade
sun dripping speckles of light across the whole sky.
To Marvelous Light 