Saturday, the fifth of April, a few minutes after nine in the morning: snow on t...

Saturday, the fifth of April, a few minutes after nine in the morning: snow on the ground, bright blue sky above and I am walking to a friend’s house.
I look up just in time to see a whole flock of finches flying by.
Their bellies are yellow, lit up with feathers and morning light.
Looking at them pulls my heart into the world.
I can feel it
(my heart):
bright
hopefulness
beating
inside
of me, and
flapping its
wings, and
flying up
there.