Ode to Small Things

ADRIENNE FISHER

It is a small thing, but maybe not so small,
if it is a sign of civility
when oncoming drivers dim their lights as
they approach each other at nightfall.

It is a small thing, but maybe not so small,
if it is a sign of everlasting love,
when a husband brings his wife hot coffee
just before she wakes in the morning pall.

When a neighbor smiles and tells me to watch
for the full moon to light the dark night,
to share her passion to keep me enthralled,
it is a small thing, but maybe not so small.

And, I ask you, is it a small thing when
my reclusive friend emerges from withdrawal
with enough stamina for life's curveballs
to sustain us both, and possibly,

just possibly, sustain the finite
balance between darkness and light.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: Adrienne Fisher wrires in Jericho, Vermont]

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