Invitation
Midge Goldberg
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 scrap1 for the garbage truck.
But, to your own surprise, one day you pluck
the yellow flyer out and go, and he
and you first meet, which just as easily
might not have happened, a simple case of luck:
enough to send you screaming to the skies
about the crazy vagaries2 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 random3 blessedness of that
