Miraculous

Rate this item
(2 votes)

I found the miraculous in the dim lamp that hung above your head,
swinging.

I found the miraculous in the hospital lobby—
a bag of candy hearts left by a child whose mother
ached in a blue chair. The voices of sick and well
mingled across the linoleum floor.

I found the miraculous in the closed section of the parking lot under construction,
blue white exhaust of cigarette smoke rising from the engines
of nurses and doctors hiding their hearts under skin.

If they take veins from your legs, connect them
to your stunted heart, you may walk again, Dad.

I called you that a few times
but always felt more comfortable with Bill.
I found it miraculous the way you filled up
12 gallon garbage cans with Bud Ice.

Doctor tells me, He doesn’t stop, he’ll die.

I found the miraculous in water welling from the sink—
spilling onto the blue bath mat like saints.

Miraculous the way rain can be determined.

I found the miraculous in rows of empty wheelchairs, folded
backs like geese huddled together.

A building full of vacant hallways. Each room with two beds,
a television, a partition. Miraculous
the way it’s hard to not look into the rooms,
as if suffering hearts beckon like bird calls.

I found the miraculous cupped in the hands of a woman
whose sobs began the moment the elevator door closed slow
like a good book. I wanted to hug her, tell her It’ll be okay, even though
I didn’t know her and am never sure that it will be.

I found myself saying nothing as we exited.

I never found the miraculous in my father, or the son
I’ll never have, both of them ghosts.

I pass my grade school on the drive home,
think of all the times I lied
during confession, made up sins to be forgiven,
never realizing the weight the world has in store—

the way you can be buried yet walking
and very much alive.
It’s miraculous.


Pittsburgh Quarterly is now accepting submissions for its weekly online poetry feature. PQ Poem is seeking poetry from local, national and international poets that highlight a strong voice and good use of imagery, among other criteria. To have your work featured, send up to three previously unpublished poems in Word or PDF format as well as a brief bio to

Simultaneous submissions are accepted, but if work is accepted elsewhere, please alert us.


Brandon Fury

Brandon Fury graduated with a BA in poetry from the University of Pittsburgh and is currently a candidate in the MFA program at Carlow University. His work has been featured or is forthcoming in Pittsburgh’s City Paper’s online feature Chapter and Verse; Runaway Hotel Vol. 2; The After Happy Hour Review and the Pittsburgh Poetry Review.

Explore Related Stories:

Welcome to Pittsburgh Quarterly
Keep up with the latest

Sign up for our enewsletter, Pittsburgh Quarterly This Week.

We’ll keep in touch, but only when we think there’s something worth sharing. To receive exclusive Pittsburgh Quarterly news and stories, please fill out the form below. Be sure to check your email for a link to confirm your subscription!

View past newsletters here.

Keep up with the latest from Pittsburgh Quarterly.

Enter your email address to receive exclusive Pittsburgh Quarterly news and updates via our enewsletter, Pittsburgh Quarterly This Week. We’ll keep in touch, but only when we think there’s something worth sharing — and worth your time. Thanks for joining us!

Already signed up? Please click the “Don’t Show This Again” button below

First Name(*)
Please let us know your name.
Last Name(*)
Invalid Input
Your Email(*)
Please let us know your email address.
Please check the box for security purposes.
Invalid Input
Don't have an account yet? Register Now!

Sign in to your account.