for the sudden flame-peach sunrise
In the midst of winter--one, warm, walking day,
And tree limbs, naked, stretching out to touch it--
The blue! the yellow! After all that gray!
For pearls of pigeons spearing through the sky
like silver beads on slender strands of chain
exploding with a joy that leaves me humbled,
Thanks for the fact that You would even deign
to answer a prayer I knew I shouldn't pray,
When I asked--in the winter--for one, warm, walking day.