Poem: “Tasting the Day”

Tasting the day,

The bread off the griddle

Hot coffee or tea

The squirrels at the feeder

Fat as chinchillas

Knocks on doors

Wind in the street

A man with a cane

Pauses, swivels—

Goes back

Whence he came

Clouds announce ships

Lofty with sails

Across blue oceans

Their missions never fail.

Who were you this morning

By night may be clear.

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