Virgin, Child and Taxi, New York City

R. Nemo Hill

Mass Mailing Invitation

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You know the sort—the postcard that gets stuck
between the ads for siding and the plea
for missing children, that you usually
toss out, another scrap for the garbage truck.

But, inadvertently, one day, you pluck
one out—and this becomes where you and he
first met each other, which just as easily
might not have happened, a simple case of luck:

enough to send you screaming to the skies
about the crazy vagaries of it all,
everything resting on a thing so small,

the million chances you don’t recognize
much less take, and then, the one you took—
the random blessedness of that one look.

previously published in Measure