Save the blinking dots on the digital clock
that tell us power was severed and then restored.
Save the semicolon that connects
two unconnected thoughts.
Save the boxes on graph paper that may confine
but don’t have to.
Save the berries that make the dyes
bright as blood.
Save the ivy obscuring the door in the wall
that makes you certain you have stumbled upon
Save the diamonds in wedding bands
to commemorate the men who died
Save the gold at the end of rainbows
that less cyanide should enter the earth.
Save the fresh perspective
of mountaintops and clear horizons.
Save the body that threatens to betray you.
Save every morsel of warmth
from a sixty-degree day
Save the patterns in the wallpaper
that stare at us like eyes.
Save all the broken lightbulbs
and make them Christmas ornaments.
Save the old bird’s nest that fell in the storm.
Save the one egg that hasn’t hatched yet.