Waking up, There are always things To be grateful for. Obvious, easy things: Like first sun climbing past The petals of the bougainvillea Through my bedroom window And knocking In patches On my eyelids. How could I not be thankful for that? Or another thing, Witnessing her sleeping cheeks Stretch into her yawning, I love you, Good morning grin. If you saw it, you’d know. Anyone would feel lucky then. Or the scratching of those little Finch feet on the feeder. I think when I hear that, Thank God for that. But this morning, When I swung sitting sideways On the edge of the bed In
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