I’m thinking of the straw/gold inversion
as fat drops of rain begin to round the evening,
closing the day as it began,
framing the sunny interlude in soft gray,
green of spring still predominating
What glitters in a day
can be cashed in for joy,
but only in the absence of entitlement,
which turns kind gestures into ash
and cries, limping,
for what it has not received
While even the most humble stalk,
absorbing warmth, filling up with light,
will shine its bright bar across a memory,
its gift across a life.
©Wendy Mulhern
May 8, 2016
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