Alice O. Howell   

Breakfast: in memoriam

I pour you a cup of fragrance: coffee

my hand rests on  the bony warmth

of your shoulder

through the clean blue of your shirt.

The sun glances off the glisten of your hair

as you talk, casual

about something with someone -

male voices rumbling.


That touch in common day

flushes me proud knowing secrets: other touches tendered -

your whispered voice at night.

The light shines up through green apples

bananas and rosy grapes

from the sun's bowl centered on the

warm square of wood.

That instant flooded suddenly a great radiance

lit from within with the Life of life

a pellucid presence afar!

Whose voice in the silence taught me?

Share this moment with the god in your heart to keep it forever:

the warm shoulder, the blue shirt -

all that you were, my love

you are.

"Look for the sacred in the commonplace!"