Looking up through the windshield at
dark wings and a white head
crossing high above I-5. “Just a seagull,”
I hear myself say—permission to
lose interest, permission to shut down
the aqueducts of wonder. How quickly
I abandon my enchantment like it’s
a grenade about to bloom or a great eye
opening. Because really I know
that the shape of those wings
cutting against a blue sky
is a beauty sharp enough to cut me, too.
James, this is so beautiful and true! Wonders are all around us.
Thanks Wendy :) Yeah, it’s good to remind yourself now and then.