It today’s language one might call it a gift
-or grace or blessing, in some circles.
The light of a bird with late spring exuberance
thrumming itself against my kitchen sink sitting
quietly for the clearest of a heartbeat before
winging itself back through the open doorway.
Quin the dog, spread on the carpet at my feet looked into my face
with the same eyes gleaming that I too felt.
An honor bestowed in this fleet honest visit
one heart to another.