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Poetry
How to Love



She entered the world knowing
how to be surprised by every light and voice.
I asked her: How can you love the world
when the world is ill?
Batting her eyes, she speaks a word:
Tougol, something she's created
when she doesn't know the answer.
Pretty day outside, she says,
turning her face toward the glass door.
It's true: the sun is shining.
A chipmunk scatters across our line of vision.
The cat chatters and swishes his tail,
excited by the opportunity of a chase,
which may never happen, but nevertheless
he has flattened his body--just in case.
The child sidles up to the cat, places her arm around him
then strokes his fur. They look into the world together,
watching its movements carefully
as if something wonderful could happen.



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