A Thousand Pockets

I don’t want to burst your

theological bubble, she said to me.

Yes, you do, I said.

It’s taken me years to admit this.

A fine October afternoon,

leaves all the way to the library.

In the morning I walked in the forest

and watched how the sun picks out

the trunks of the trees one by one.

Loneliness is a craft,

Jack Gilbert says.

We have to learn how to live

with ourselves, among our thoughts.

The day has a thousand pockets.