some days you have
the lightness of hand
to make a soufflé
or time to knead bread, set it to rise
Other days, peanut butter on saltines.
It’s all food.
Just so with art—
In the same way,
some days you may conjure
a poem, a story, a painting, a song
Other days, you get one moment
when your eyes
are open
today it was you,
brown and dappled deer,
strolling slowly across the side street
next to the quiet bricks
of the fire station
Puff Of Smoke Poems 