this world, where terrible things have happened,
but still we are surprised
by our capacity to be
Surprised Again—
hummingbirds
forgotten tulips planted in long ago autumn
two cracked open robin’s eggs, one empty
our town, from the crest of the hill —
tucked into the valley
glistening like a hobbit’s village
mice and spiders, almost always
a paper letter in our blue metal mailbox
dandelions, all at once
And you—What surprises you?
Puff Of Smoke Poems 