… too well.

By J. K. McDowell

March 2013


Our hands are clasped – we say Grace around this table,

The work and wonder of our lives.  For a moment

We forget the dreams that slip through our fingers.


Frankly I wondered at her breakfast order:

Two Faberge’ Eggs, scrambled, with white cheddar.

The cook has his work cut out for him this morning.


Fine work at each place setting, crystal salt receivers

Hold white treasures that await the tamping of

Green onions.  At meals we wonder at our worth.


Some advice:  Do not demand to know the angel’s

Work in this recent disaster.   Let the critics

Wonder over the ashes as you take flight.


Time unravels us all so beautifully

Beyond the wonder and work of triumph and defeat.

A grain of wisdom among the piles of rubble.


Some words are sugar cubes, slotted spoons, green faery sips.

Jim, there is the work and there is the wonder.

When confused, the greedy soul drinks all too well.