Choices - James Crews

[Lawrence Robinson]

Choices

You can grieve the leaves stripped
from the maple, all that empty
space between bare branches,
or you can bless the abundance
of light shining through, buffing
the pine boards of the floor until
they turn the color of clover honey.
You can mourn the coneflowers
now shriveled and brown, say
the whole world’s gone to ruin,
or you can stand at the window
watching the lively yellow blossom
of a goldfinch feasting on each
crown of seeds, sending more than
a few back home, down into
the open ground, which knows
how to receive them.

	- James Crews