yes, they lived in a small city where he would
Pull maple seedlings, in spring
Mow the lawn, in summer
Rake the leaves, in autumn
Watch out for falling ice, in winter
they should be celebrating
all this wonder,
opportunity, unacknowledged ritual,
never-wrapped presence
now, light another candle
looking ahead, then, and looking back
Poem copyright 2015 by Jnana Hodson
To read the full set of squirrelly poems, click here.
Jnana's Red Barn 