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.

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