
A woman walks a field of chores
toward a gate too narrow
for her satchel of burdens.
Seven days’ work,
a friend’s death,
sick children.
The gate
swings open.
She hesitates
until it starts to close, then
drops her pack, lurches through
before the latch clicks,
saved
by a shadow of grace.
written in response to Wendell Berry’s poem, “Sabbaths 1985, V”


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