"and love/ is no less practical/ than a coffee grinder"

[pynelyf]

I told Christina a few days ago that I had found a poem that made me very happy, but I didn't want to post it right away because I was saving it. She laughed and asked what I was saving it *for*. I  still haven't found a good answer for that question, but somehow, that hoarding impulse is still there, still strong, as if I can't quite bear to share it, but I'll stop being silly now, so here it is.

I wondered, when I found it, where Tony Hoagland had been for my whole poetic life until now.

The Word -- Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom
 of the crossed-out list
 of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"
 and "broccoli" you find
 that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word
 is as beautiful, it touches you
 as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
 he had sent you from some place distant
 as this morning -- to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
 among your duties, pleasure
 is a thing,

that also needs accomplishing
 Do you remember?
 that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
 is no less practical
 than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
 Tomorrow you may be utterly
 without a clue

but today you get a telegram,
 from the heart in exile
 proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
 the king and queen alive,
 still speaking to their children,

--to any one among them
 who can find the time,
 to sit out in the sun and listen.