Elsa Johnson

I say grace is where you find it   …sometimes

in such unexpected places   Amazing

that the fleas hoping to camp on Loki’s face

moved him to try to talk like a bird   There he sat

high up in a flea-less open second floor window

opposite a wire where a robin perched and chirped   

and he chirped back   or tried to   Such strange

sounds coming from a cat I did not at first hear

attempted conversation    only slowly perceived

each single syllable birdcall met by ‘erk!’ from cat

…and then… later —  at day’s end —  in the garden

when the light changed   infusing all with gold   

the blue sky deepened   and the clouds glowed back

like one of those Renaissance paintings …like grace