Collecting Light
I see the way the chickadees
take turns at the feeder.
I watch a neighbor take
her husband's hand.
I see the way the sun will find
the only interruption
in dark clouds,
to toss this amber light
across the pines.
I see a row of cars
stop on the road,
until the orange cat
has safely crossed,
then take off slowly, should
she change her mind.
I watch the way my brother
lifts our mother from
the wheel chair
to the car,
the shawl he lays across her lap.
I save up every scrap
of light,
because I know that it will take
each tiny consolation
everyday
to mend the world.
-- Deb Cooper