The Big Picture

The Big Picture

There is always more innocence today
than tomorrow. Balladeers sing

Greensleeves, of what it means to wear
green and keep sadness close to your heart,

but only because they do not yet know
the tune for the asteroids or the wars

which are yet a twinkle in some baby’s
eye, he hasn’t even learned to walk yet.

 A young woman stands in her yard
in a little city as the light leaves, feels

happiness rushing through her, and then
past her. She has sixty years left here,

four houses, three lovers, one child,
two dogs, two cats, a piano she will inherit

next month and learn to play in ten years,
and the world hasn’t even begun to blink.