Bending

Every once in a while,
The world bends in perfect ways.

Like when the Hudson River
Offered a landing place for a plane,
And there were no boats in its path,
Just at that moment.

Or when the deer darted at our van,
So that there seemed no way the brakes
Could possibly stop,
And yet the two did not touch.
Did an angel made the van ripple?

Or when my brother, on his way to work,
Stopped for a red light. Suddenly
His rear view mirror broke off.
He looked at the car stopped in the next lane
And the two drivers stared in shock.
A third car had lost its brakes and passed between the two
And through the intersection,
Without an accident.

I think of that and suspect that,
Like in a cartoon, the runaway car
Fitted between the two by smooshing smaller,
A minor miracle
On the way to work.