In February in Florida all things seem possible:
spring lifts its arms and deer pick their delicate
way through thickening vines Butterflies
on their instinctive journey rest upon open azaleas
closed tight up north Double stars mated for life
like rare whooping cranes glide from east to west
through the clear skies of a new millennium
All of this partly mechanical: monarchs cranes
philodendron stars and deer all pulled
by gravity's attraction and the earth's
magnetic field along paths measured
and irregular: these accidents were meant to be
This morning the sun rose over the Bay
flattened like a wafer at the edges
partly obscured by smoke blowing from Bradenton
but up it came gilding the horizon
and the street where David and Megan
turn toward each other at the right moment
true as a compass the alchemy of their marriage
transmuting our ways and walks into a landscape
where every step is pulled in the right direction
each footprint dusted by weightless gold