When old sorrow
or your portion
of work in this world
feels heaviest, when you grow sleepy
from doing the right thing
so many times in a row
Remember—these weights
are also what anchor you
to this planet. Let tiredness wash over you
through the open car windows.
If you do not try to distract yourself
or cheer yourself, if you let it all be
exactly what it is this mixed blessing world
where you drive slowly into or out of the storm
stopping to buy bread and tea and chicken for dinner
planning the next task in your head,
if you do not run away from this feeling
you may see and be lifted, as you cross
to the grocery store how the afternoon light falls on the distant hills
how it folds, thick and slow, caught on the silk and
scratch of every stalk in the cornfield
at the edge of this parking lot