Innocence sees that this is it, and finds it world enough.
– Annie Dillard
At some point you make peace with it
Your life as it is, with all it offers you
Like an early evening walk, half moon
Hung in the tiger lily sky
Black cows heading to the barn
Bemoaning the end of day
Hundreds of blackbirds screeching
Live as the wire they perch upon
My long-time friend zipping by in her van
Waving. It’s after all the whining
And stomping of feet, of course. After dreams
Blur with real life. After the pin-pricked
Pop of the inflated ego. What joy
Mysterious. What humble innocence.
“Innocence” by Julie L. Moore, from Slipping Out of Bloom. © WordTech Editions, 2010.