...are sure to please me.
...like awakening, surrounded by soft morning light and a color that breathes oxygen.
...like watching this spiral sculpture spin slowly in the breeze.
...like lying in bed, listening to mourning doves whirring on the window ledges outdoors.
Resting my eyes on the Mark Rothko print
I bought at the Guggenheim but left in the yellow cab.
Remembering the friend who retrieved it for me.
...like wandering into the garden and discovering fuchsia blooms among lime greens,
a miracle after a freezing winter destroyed our Christmas Tree palms.
...like backyard blooms decorating a dinner for four.
Afternoon light streaming across the table.
'Tis a gift to be simple,
'tis a gift to be free.