Leveler Poetry Journal
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In life there’s an opportunity to count


In life there’s an opportunity to count mornings, even if one isn’t trying.  There’s one and one and one.  Now the sun glares off new leaves; now heavy snow falls skyward off a pond—but only where it reflects black.  In ripples the mystery is negligible.  Normal.  There is no arguing, it is today and I have sinned what I have sinned.  And it is not a stretch to imagine absolution approaching in each new day—to have my face eclipsed by a cool hand and a cloth soaked in ether, just to fall asleep for a night and then wake up to one.

Travis Cebula