Ciclo XL

The light this morning fell across the table in a way I have not seen before — or perhaps I have seen it a thousand times and only now attend to it. The bread, the knife, the crumbs scattered like small islands. A sparrow on the sill, watching me as I watch it. Così siamo uguali, the two of us — uncertain what comes next, yet still here. My hand will not obey as it once did, but the eye — the eye still receives. And that, for now, is enough.