god began sending items down to earth

robin gow

on parachutes, right before dusk when the sky

is orange & murky with clouds.

we felt silly, lining up with the neighbor children

as we waited for the baskets to descend:

a bowl of unripe blueberries, a few cans of sweet peas,

a knot of roses, a whole lot of tiny espresso spoons.

the kids got a basket of yellow butterscotch candies

& we got one packed with zucchini noodles.

there's a rumor that in the town over

a little girl came upon a basket full of twenty-dollar-bills

& another rumor says that even the more mundane baskets

sometimes have gold pieces at the bottom.

i think to myself that we are greedy with our miracles—

that it is wonderful that these objects have started falling

& that i will be happy with whatever comes my way

but i find myself there searching frantically

in the strands of squash, hoping to find something more.

i start to fantasize about what i would do with

all those twenties & i walk myself up the street

to the grocery store where i could have

plastic bags full of coconut milk ice cream.

i fold one up & put it under my brother's pillows.

i give one to the hair dresser to shave my hair closer to the scalp—

telling her where it came from so she knows

i'm not showing off. another basket comes down

& it's piled with candy bracelets so i give it to the kids

who put two or three on each arm.

i can't understand yet what god is doing with us—

what he means when he sends down these trinkets

on parachutes. all the pastors in town

& religious leaders all over give thanks—

they come out in to the grass to pray

& try to give answers. some say we're preparing

for the end. i think god missed us

or maybe she was bored--

craving the way small baskets from the sky

spread manic joy over each town.

i will save the baskets so that

when it is over i can send something back up

into the sky—a loaf of banana bread

or maybe a picture of all of us in my house

with a note reading

we are down here & we always want more.