blue and white and red
spinach and cucumbers and green apples
spring nights and quacking ducks
the letter q next to the letter i
black tea and almonds with honey
soft scarves and cold winds
patience and family
journeys with no destinations
the smell of old board games and nostalgia
i witnessed a devastating fire on a sunny day in March,
i heard the glass pop and the timbers fall within great plumes of suffocating black smoke–
i placed my face close to the velvet petals of a tulip and felt a cool greeting in response–
i watched a small child ride a scooter in the street and an old woman yell at him to move along, his indifference made clear in the straight position of his young shoulders–
i held a pup’s head that will grow to be larger than my own and marveled at her soft, gangling beauty–
almost too much for a lifetime, let alone, for a day
a soft baby blue blanket,
the echoes of childhood laughter,
a generous slice of hope and love and peace,
and the vision of two mated mallards
on the marsh in early spring