And Things Are as They Should Be

Which is to say, at that moment,
Things feel right to you. You feel good,
That’s all. You feel fine. The mercy

Is that many “as they should be”
Moments pass through many, maybe
Most, ordinary lives. Sadly,

You can’t keep them for safekeeping,
Drag them out when you want supplies.
Either things are as they should be,

And you’re savoring contentment,
Or they’re not, and it will be work
To bring them back, a lot of work.

You can remember the moment
You sprawled on warm lawn with a peach
Of perfect ripeness, the soft skin

Gushing sweetness between your teeth—
You can remember that moment
When you’re sick or on a gurney

Waiting for risky surgery,
But it’s not like you can get it
Back out of the pantry, preserved

In syrup, and let memory
Spoonfeed you peaches from the jar.
You just swear to yourself, some day,

Maybe not for a long, long time,
But some peachy day, things will be
As they should be, and hope you’re right.