For the mysterious gifts of
early summer, Thank You.
For the bird, for all the birds, heard not seen.
For new purple on the hedge.
"What are they?" "I don't know but I call them butterfly flowers."
For the berries (blue) and the fruits (vermillion),
too beautiful and possibly dangerous to eat, but wonderful to admire.
For the mole somewhere under that fresh turned mountain of earth.
For orange, red, yellow, white, purple thriving in harmony in the front flower bed.
For cloudless sky. Again.
For the suburban sounds of early summer - sprinkler, lawn mower,
a kids' bike making another skid mark in the driveway.
For the perfect little hands of the squirrel peeling apart a pod of something.
For a dog whose whole body wags with hope and unearned love.
For You in all of these things.