Just when I think we’ll just try again tomorrow —
That the volume is too high;
The spirits too low.
That the whining is but a record stuck on repeat,
We emerge through the smudged backdoor.
two yellow dogs eager to jump and lick
into a world where no screen can emulate
the awe of nature’s playground.
And in this space, almost magically —
the one who was crying has now found a stick,
the ones who were squabbling have now crawled under a box that’s really a boat — oh, wait, now a cave,
And my mind is stilled.
My ears now attuned
to the subtlest of sounds in the winter trees —
And just when I thought it was a day for the birds,
The outdoors saves us all.