Blessings by Jennifer Barizo

Blessings

by Jennifer Barizo

Most days, I forget, I get caught up

with the chore of waking, the question

of how to do the day, and things slip

away

before I can remember

the purrrr

of a sailboat the way the word

Esurientes

rolls off my tongue, the low groan of

a trombone, I did not always love

these things. Before, it was requiems

and the op. 8 #12, and the sad

weight of a cello,

Vincent's lonely iris,

But there is more now. There is

the scent of clover as I am lying in it,

the way I have learned the shape

of a face, the morning's sweet

light

I cannot always name my blessings

but somewhere there is a list that

always grows

Most days, I can sing