I like that question, and so I put it to you, dear readers: What is a perfect day for you? Please share here if you will.
Not every day is perfect, yet even in the tough days perfection is hidden somewhere.
Here is a gift from Karen, and we send prayers to her and her family and friends who are having sad days with loss.
On a Perfect Day
by Jane Gentry
... I eat an artichoke in front
of the Charles Street Laundromat
and watch the clouds bloom
into white flowers out of
the building across the way.
The bright air moves on my face
like the touch of someone who loves me.
Far overhead a dart-shaped plane softens
through membranes of vacancy. A ship,
riding the bright glissade of the Hudson , slips
past the end of the street. Colette's vagabond
says the sun belongs to the lizard
that warms in its light. I own these moments
when my skin like a drumhead stretches on the frame
of my bones, then swells, a bellows filled
with sacred breath seared by this flame,