because you never know
what you might find--
keep your bag open to
receive those unwitting gifts
falling from heaven
heavy as rocks, weighty as
oranges arranged in a
pyramid, or, equally,
cardboard boxes, squared
and brown, at repose
in the closet, the accidental
words seeping from them like
jam from the jar, the
stickiness forcing you
to contemplate how it was
they were strung, one after
another, those pearls grafting
each to each, phrases awkward
as a foal, yet, somehow,
standing on their own