Down near the bottom of the crossed-out list of things you have to do today,
between “green thread” and “broccoli” you find that you have penciled “sunlight.”
Resting on the page, the word is as beautiful, it touches you as if you had a friend
and sunlight were a present he had sent you from some place distant as this morning–to cheer you up,
and to remind you that, among your duties, pleasure is a thing,
that also needs accomplishing
Do you remember? that time and light are kinds
of love, and love is no less practical than a coffee grinder
or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly without a clue
but today you get a telegram, from the heart in exile proclaiming that the kingdom
still exists, the king and queen alive, still speaking to their children,
to any one among them who can find the time, to sit out in the sun and listen.