Alexander Payne Morgan
Surprised by Grace
She sat beside me, thoughtless, or maybe
she had a reason, but as I paused she
shifted down, fell light against my thigh, and
slept, like a child in some fairy garden.
I didn’t dare move, caught by her little
adjustments as she settled in just so.
I’d never seen this before, a glint
of otherworldly balance, there by me.
I didn’t dare move. I am not the type
to catch radiant slips in time, to see
visions or feel unworldly fermatas,
but I knew this moment was something, was
some kind of grace that came to me so light,
so close, so consoling … and then was gone.
A Summer Affair
It took me a while to recognize your matter-of-fact love,
or if love is too aggressive a word, your easy camaraderie,
which after my long slog through adulthood,
I could celebrate for you even more.
You and Sarah sat together so easily. She’d meet you
at the door, and you two would find a quiet place together,
and we adults would smile and condescend.
“Sarah and Anthony are playing together again.”
But I saw in the ease of your connection a glow that defied
the reductive “playing.” I saw sunlight slanting on you
through stained glass, something of wonder, a holiness …
Words are such traitors. Every label diminishes
what I want to say. It was a privilege
to recognize the depth of your innocent intimacy,
and it was a sadness to accept the inevitable brevity,
the knowing your light would too soon evanesce.
