Tuesday Poem

Yard Sale in Mid-April

A briefcase
where he stored grandfather’s papers, an abacus,
then a fake gold clock with two bells on its head, an old barbeque
for inside-the-house cooking, about the size of a three-layer cake,
a pencil from Russia with a green tip for sketching, the sky is above
all this, not in a religious sense, it notes this delight I take on rare
occasions, then it continues its own miracles, it does not matter
that I am not seeing things, matter, space, future, spirit,
all this does not matter, I step into the kitchen, give the abacus
to my niece, tell my daughter about my cooking, wander outside
under the clouds.

by Juan Filipe Herrera
Half Of The World In Light
University of Arizona Press, 2008