A cloudy sky over a sandy beach.

i’m watching a live cam from York Beach,
a fistful of degrees above freezing, old men
in penitent colors, a white dog racing between
clumps of undiscovered promise,

remembering she slipped into the world today
as i trailed another moon behind, just thirty
miles upriver, and somehow every number
is rounding itself off in my mind:

another 10 inches of snow has fallen,
60 migrants have washed ashore in Italy,
the 400th day of war looms in Ukraine and
already 6000 gun deaths at home,

but listen: after the service we handed out
cards like a license, one side with her photo,
the other her words to spur the tardy quilters –
done is better than perfect,

and my second wife has kept one of these
tucked in her wallet twenty years now,
which is only to tell you, in this life,
how blesséd i have been.

Photo by John Gillespie, used and adapted under CC.