Consider the slope of the sun,
the difference of a few degrees,
the magic that light makes
as it warms the soil.
To witness is joy enough,
even among the weedy blooms,
the water leaf and baneberry,
poor cousins to orchis and may apple;
and then, there’s a world of sound
of turkeys proclaiming love,
the bees in the honeysuckle,
the song sparrow standing guard,
and I hear, somewhere distant,
some mysterious warbler
passing through my woods.
It's another day full of answers.
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