We Are Surprised

Now, we take the moon

into the middle of our brains


so we look like roadside stray cats

with bright flashlight-white eyes


in our faces, but no real ideas

of when or where to run.


We linger on the field’s green edge

and say, Someday, son, none of this


will be yours. Miracles are all around.

We’re not so much homeless


as we are home-free, penny-poor,

but plenty lucky for love and leaves


that keep breaking the fall. Here it is:

the new way of living with the world


inside of us so we cannot lose it,

and we cannot be lost. You and me


are us and them, and it and sky.

It’s hard to believe we didn’t


know that before; it’s hard to believe

we were so hollowed out, so drained,


only so we could shine a little harder

when the light finally came.

Bibliographical info

Ada Limón's "we are surprised" from Bright Dead Things. Copyright © 2015 by Ada Limón. Used with permission from Milkweed Editions. All rights reserved.

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