(In memory of my father)

Driving down H Street, I see
a man at the curb, rake in hand,

and another man’s voice comes to me:
I can pray just fine raking the leaves,

though he really said this about mowing,
not being inclined toward leaf gathering

since our yard primarily consisted of old
live oaks that, when they did shed, did so

so unnoticeably that the leaves just lay
on the grass until they got churned up

by the lawn mower, morphing into mulch.
I love these there-you-are moments when

he appears, reminding me that all moments
are holy, no church needed, unless you want

to listen to someone tell a good story, and
close your eyes as a superb pianist fills

a whole room with the sound of eternity.

•••

(With thanks to Dr. Irina Tchantceva, pianist at
the Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento,
for her wonderful weekly performances.)