Ole

Ole was born on a day which
the sun chose.

Born on the cusp of shy and
very,

the cusp of sleep
and waking.

More deserving than anyone
of all good things:

fat velvet bumblebees,
onyx black nights,
the translucence of new

maple leaves in mid
daylight,

white butterfly caught
in a gaze,

as if by an eyelash;

a day which
the sun chose a day which--

inarticulate gratitude,
face against worn pillow.