O to be grateful
for cold winter mornings,
snow on the patio chairs
and stepping on cold
concrete with bare feet.

To remember a summer’s day
in 1963, the feeling of immortality
in adolescence and a boy
whose name is lost to posterity.
For silence, and for conversation,
for connectivity and being alone,
not lonely.

My thoughts,
my ever present companions,
and melody.
For poetry that dances
on the page, for wilderness
and desert,
for lush green forest,
marigolds and wildlife.
For another day
under the Louisville cloud cover.