Rapt.Sure.

On the morning of the Rapture
I was in the woods, among the birds
with leaves around my ankles

Sunlit pools on the forest floor
through the rose window trees,
from a stained glass sky

In the afternoon of the Rapture
I was working at the lunch table,
counting blessings (sandwich was one)

Cardinal on the feeder shelling seeds
while my hands were making notes,
Shared a knowing glance, then gone

In the evening of the Rapture
At a window seat, with arroz y frijoles,
Her walk a casual flamenco

I could not turn away, eyes like magnets,
I sat up straight and smiled as she neared,
Those mahogany pools smiled back

and said hello, on the evening of the Rapture.