Anne Fowler

shards of luck
shaking them
sea glass in a jar
 
how to hold that
life of yours steady awhile
longer on the horizon
 
one of us lunges down
to grab the dull penny on the road
we’re not proud
 
one of us cups a hand around
the albino ladybug on the bedroom screen
blows her away
 
some of the ladies from St. Mary’s
call and leave messages
drop by with books
 
a couple of others, elsewhere
just wait, they’ve got
all the time in the world