Even if it weren’t happening now
As in a happiness in the past
Or a happiness anticipated
It can be read like a poem
Fixed in the climate of stars
Visible or invisible above us.
Not touchable but undeniably
Touching us like a breeze or shadow.
It’s not gratitude. Happiness gave its
Train ticket or last drink or favorite book
to gratitude and even if gratitude didn’t
Read the book it carried it on the train
And paged through it. Of course you can’t
Be grateful for a drink unless you drink it.
Gratitude’s empty glass. Book as a coaster.
The years of spilled thoughts. Happiness
Like apprehending the earth’s curvature
Or finding the denominator of God.
Whether you believe in it or not
It will keep saving you.