There are yellow lilies in the garden
Pink roses against the fence
Lettuce, radishes & peas in their garden plots
Raspberries & zinnias & strawberries in 
the front garden
The curse of a cookie cutter yard has
no home here
Bees sleep in the sage
& robins make nests in the trees
I hear the songs of welcome
from the birds as the sun rises
I am so afraid of how colonialism
has torn us apart but at least
for this moment a butterfly
is safe here
surrounded by the soundtrack of
the Gods.