Sunday

today the crows call loudly from the sky
the clouds roll in and settle in the low places
An owl takes flight as I stepped across the canyon

I am swimming in the fog
like a fish through tepid water
all quiet all stillness

I believe in Sunday
I believe in it
like I believe in all the days of the week,
but even more.
and I believe in this precious, fragile now
even more than that

I return home to that pot on the fencepot on fence
the sage that is flowering for the first time
the bean plant that so timidly gave a bean pod

in celebration of it’s passing

blessings to you and me for our seeing

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