Just now the clouds 
part for a moment,
reveal the sky’s joyful blue. 

I am here, says the sky, 
Spring is here. 
Joy is possible. 

Beyond that blue 
come deep clouds rolling. 
More storms on the way.
                        

Death has made me 
travel among strangers,
trying to stay distant, 
tight faces stark with danger. 

Home now from the funeral
I take my morning walk: 
a rabbit leaps into the brush; 
a squirrel scurries across 
the grass and I feel a bomb 
ticking in my belly. 

Lilies prepare to bloom, 
raise green spears to the sky. 
Here I am, I tell the world. 
Do as you must. My hands 
have never been so clean.