The cardinal

Sometimes there is power in a passing remark.

The cardinal alights

On the pine

Next to the front window

Lit by the morning sun

Then flies away.

It was a short visit

But he was perfectly framed

By the middle window pane

As if

As if

He’d planned it

Or as if

Someone had planned it.

The next day

A matter-of-fact woman tells me,

In passing,

Apropos of nothing,

As if an afterthought,

You know

Some people think

A cardinal appearing

Is someone who has died

And has come

To say “Hi.”

Then I remembered

The cardinal

From the day before.