|Holocaust Memorial Center|
Yes, icicles on ice and autumn leaves
and feathers as they touch down, but also
such moments as we lift our heads to see
a fog lift pink, sound still to green and dark
silence and news anchors or presidents
swallow or hesitate and wipe away
unstaged tears caused by inhumanity.
Yes, dark chocolate icing and home-knit shawls
unique and personal, but also poems
on paper snack napkins written and saved
and lost and found again as mystic time
opens and leads as if the only muse
and light we need to capture words that hit
and run like candle wax melt at midnight.
*This phrase is from Walt Whitman's poem "Spontaneous Me" which is available with today's prompt.
For Sanaa's Prompt Nights – Spontaneous or Not 
Copyright © 2016 Susan L. Chast