Letting the Moment Pass

Salt over a shoulder, smudged chalk circle; 
not a single idle breach in an hour,
lest the devil be encouraged to come
out and do his work. But there are
days when hate spills out of every mouth,
every email; doors stick, the roast
burns, a scammer makes off with your
down payment. A dead bird lands
on your doorstep, the ceramic spoon rest
bursts into broken pieces. Time
to restart the day, close your eyes to what
wants to pull you down until the air feels
cold and honest, until only what you love
runs its hands through your hair again.

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