Bargaining

So potent, this pull toward nothing,
when even the greenest grace of spring rain
rings hollow, tsuris like stones in my pockets
dragging me toward creek bed’s cool sleep—

but look, a snail on shore anointing each
emerald blade with gossamer ribbon,
footing soil’s darkness to a viscous shine. 

Okay world, convince me, use every trick
in your book: siren song spun from
a hummingbird’s tourmaline breast;
glass-front display of the water’s depths
selling common granite like precious stone. 

If you bait the sky, sun’s lure bobbing in the blue,
I’ll bite, let the barbed tug of wonder haul me
gape-mouthed and thrashing toward life.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash.