Joy doesn’t need to be loud or flashy.
Appreciation can flourish without fanfare, walking quietly
in shades of grey.
This morning’s new weather took the stage, fresh and crisp,
doing what it could to blow down my loose collar, an ascot of intrusive cold.
Clouds lay down a puffy quilt above as we walked the narrow gauntlet of the
farmers market, stem to stern, flanked by tables stacked with artesian muffins,
across from one adorned with sharks’ teeth twisted into jewelry by thin
copper restraints.
We savored the day, a steaming cup of matcha with soy and
chocolate.
Back home, we shared justifications that pardoned each other
from any chores we had discussed, stamping the “To Do” list with one that said;
“Tomorrow”.
At dinner, no stereo, no TV, no cellphones.
The two of us, quietly ecstatic in the moment.
Dungeness crab with Butternut squash ravioli, fresh cut
strawberries spooned out with cane sugar and lemon juice from the tree that
leans on stair rails by the deck off the bedroom, heavy with beaming yellow globes
framed in green.
All of it, each moment, a subtle offering that screamed joy
to the world.
Our own good fortune to live this life, glowing like a hot
coal blown gently with the breath of god...
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