We all hope to be admitted to the formal program
of eye surgeries and getting groceries, returning
from distances traveled where blessings flowed
on Sundays and phone calls were made to
remember truths inspired by change and disrupted
before stable time and mask-wearing.
Some transplants work better than others
allowing a few to become busy once again
making holes in roofs for friends to drop in
unexpectedly, challenging the most
difficult adage, Play can be work, and serving
eggs and toast with strong coffee for breakfast.
And still others grow tired of the noisy routine
of taping window signs to glass demanding
guests cohere to a set of guidelines created
by those who talk a great game but fail to enjoy
their favorite snack and continually wander
around the block of anxiety in need of weeding.