On a morning walk there is wide open joy.
Trees contribute, birds join in, the stream provides movement.
I stop to watch a mother duck follow her troop across the grass.
She keeps her eye on me but does not jump to conclusions.
Names do not apply if eyes are wide open and there is but the seeing.
I hear a woman tell another," I walked my dog in this park every day."
The sweetness had not left her.
The brown of dying grass has emerald patches.
Everything knows what to do.
Trees contribute, birds join in, the stream provides movement.
I stop to watch a mother duck follow her troop across the grass.
She keeps her eye on me but does not jump to conclusions.
Names do not apply if eyes are wide open and there is but the seeing.
I hear a woman tell another," I walked my dog in this park every day."
The sweetness had not left her.
The brown of dying grass has emerald patches.
Everything knows what to do.
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