Poems  From Tuscarora
Secular Grace

See this photograph I took

of an ordinary lawn  chair.

Notice how the late evening

light dignifies plastic chairs,

rusted cars, the bloated cow

on the hill killed by lightening.


People, too, gain radiance

this time of day.  The homeless

pair walking toward their rag nest,

the child playing with dust balls

on the linoleum floor.


To me, it is a true light,

as true as the sun at noon,

but cruel the way midsummer

minutes sanctify the mass

of flies, the wretched couple,

the unloved, untended child.


War photographers know this:

beauty and yet ugliness.

I wonder what they call it.





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