Poetry
Tiny Mercies
by John Muro
by John Muro
Like the way you caress
Your cup of coffee and Cradle it, like a cinder, Near your chest as if There’s a need to warm The heart, or your pathless Humming when tripping Through tasks; the Endearing way you Recoil from cold or Tuck loose strands Of hair inside your cap; Or the noble want to Always place the needs Of others before your own. How much different than The aging misanthrope Who watches you, heron- Still, with eyes half-closed, Weighing this morning’s Endearments that nibble Away at the dark spaces Where hunger hides Even as the heart expands. |