Saturday Poem

How Things Happen
Rain comes when it will. It doesn’t care for us.
It’s hitchhiking its way to the sea on a cloud.
The sun is interested in its own fires. If light
comes, so be it. Bees feel an itch on their legs
only nectar can sooth. So many gifts from indifferent
givers. We walk through the world and smile,
remembering an old love, and Ramona, passing by,
thinks That man thinks I’m pretty, and walks in a way
that makes her more beautiful – and Henry,
walking down the street notices, makes a pass,
and they end up having a good marriage.

by Nils Peterson
rom Walk to the Center Things