Arrival

This time it comes upon you
in the shower, your hair thick with lather
and the hot water running low,
today, after waking late again
in an empty bed, after too many hours

of sleep, yes, this is when it arrives,
at the end of a sigh, as you bend
and angle for the soap beside the drain,
as a slow melody lifts from the stereo,
filtering through the curtain in just

the same way that the winter sun
sends its light into the room—
just then it comes, this
happiness, this piece of joy,
like fruit proffered from a tree,

and you take it in your hand, you
bite the grainy flesh, eating
hungrily, gratefully, praying
that the portion you cast away
might take root, and grow.