Peacock
January 11, 2001
In the midday, under a clear sky,
as if from the burning
eye of the sun, the peacock
steps into the road, dips
his upright plumes this way and that,
flickers his peacock blue.
His shimmering brings the roofer
down from the half-finished
roof, my heavens, a peacock!
Stunned out of our lives
by an iridescent blow, we follow
it, an illuminated sign
from the book of wonders,
into a field
of gnarled fruit trees.
When he turns, opens the fan
of his tail under the pocked,
wizened apples,
the eyes of the universe gaze back.
What tethers us to the earth
almost snaps.
(c) Copyright 2001. The Christian Science Publishing Society