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.