Up to our neck in miracles

Wherever we find ourselves, there are always moments of awe and wonder if we have eyes to see.

FIELD GUIDE

Once, in the cool blue middle of a lake,
up to my neck in that most precious element of all,

I found a pale-gray, curled-upwards pigeon feather
floating on the tension of the water

at the very instant when a dragonfly,
like a blue-green iridescent bobby pin,

hovered over it, then lit, and rested.
That’s all.

I mention this in the same way
that I fold the corner of a page

in certain library books,
so that the next reader will know

where to look for the good parts.

+ Tony Hoagland from Unincorporated Persons in the Late Honda Dynasty. © Graywolf Press, 2010.