Muskoka Chairs by Brain McClorry, SJ
By Brain McClorry, SJ ©
A wind buckled and cart-wheeled
Cigarettes end over tip across the lawn,
Downed the bowl of red geraniums
Flat on the deck of the porch,
Stopped its breath, spun
Vertical rain bombs down close packed;
No room for air
Until the world was clear and cleaned
And finally violet in the sky.
All from nothing; no prelude
Though every molecule coaxed its way
Through some supposed disorder:
A grand collapse of sturdy good intentions
(Signs not noticed, questions unexplored,
The Great River not flowing now)
Or a grace without announcement,
Well prepared and put together out of sight
Of confused channels in the final delta.
Afterwards water drops from maple leaves echo
Off the grass, reseed the lawn, fill the delta full -
Just a lick and a promise amid the Muskoka chairs.