I who never ask for signs beg for a sign I will accept mud tracks across my kitchen floor as omen that I am not frozen forever in February. And I who never sing hymns will sing grateful hymns on my knees as I scrub mud omens of grasslife under deep snows...
"Give Me a Sign,"
Sketch: Vol. 43
, Article 2.
Available at: http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol43/iss3/2