Advent

The oyster has no idea
if pain is a pearl or just a pain

in the side; or in the maw
of life's little caverns.

If sound can tunnel out
of an open mouth, let the heart 

sleep late in its bed of straw
and pine needles like a child

on the first day of the school
break. The year rushed through 

season after season; now,
it slows its steps and tries

to gather salt from the tide,
whipped sugar from the wind.