This is a hymn of praise.

a pool of sunlight shining on our round table-
my grandparents used it for at least sixty-four years

clear water in the glass vase of grocery store flowers

this handsome stray back from the deep forest again, ready for breakfast-
his tail matted with burrs

tiny wild strawberries-
jewels in moss against the Christ statue

his prayer garden- tended once or twice a year-
it’s better forgotten and doesn’t neglect itself

quiet of this day reaching forward into evening-
today I am loved but not needed 
floors cleaned, bread sliced-
my only work is to notice and to notice and to notice

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.