Thanks for stoplights, to notice pink waves of dawn,
reflected from sandstone foothills, that drift across my windshield

Thanks for hold buttons, for forced
moments to focus on my heartbeat

Thanks for long lines, for the squares of pattern
marching across the grocery store floor

Thanks for diminishing green digits on microwave clocks,
for the awareness of specific seconds passing

Thanks for insomnia and the dark hollow of my house,
the soft gift of three children calmly breathing


Deborah Hailey lives in Boulder, attended CU, has three grown children, a cat named
Crunchy and works as a reference librarian in Longmont.

Previous articleBuckle up
Next articleDevastation