Muskoka Chairs by Brain McClorry, SJ

By Brain McClorry, SJ ©

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A wind buckled and cart-wheeled

Cigarettes end over tip across the lawn,

Downed the bowl of red geraniums

Flat on the deck of the porch,

Stopped its breath, spun

Vertical rain bombs down close packed;

No room for air

Until the world was clear and cleaned

And finally violet in the sky.

All from nothing; no prelude

Though every molecule coaxed its way

Through some supposed disorder:

A grand collapse of sturdy good intentions

(Signs not noticed, questions unexplored,

The Great River not flowing now)

Or a grace without announcement,

Well prepared and put together out of sight

Of confused channels in the final delta.

Afterwards water drops from maple leaves echo

Off the grass, reseed the lawn, fill the delta full -

Just a lick and a promise amid the Muskoka chairs.