Walking home through the
aspen grove, I paused on
the path's edge, startled by a sound
I had nearly forgotten.

At the breath of a breeze, the treetops
shifted and shimmered like a shoal of fish
as all the spring-fresh woods let out
a sigh of releaf.

“Thank you Jamie!”
Lorraine says as I set her
silverware at her spot—
always the fourth booth on
the left. I catch the eye of
the server beside me.
“Jamie?” she whispers
eyebrows arched.
Lorraine used to know my
name. She asked me on
my first day, then limped
off down the aisle to show
me her favorite booth.
Now she has renamed
me, and I can’t bring
myself to correct her, she
whose memories are fading,
but whose kindness is radiant.

He ambles up, plunks
his oxygen on the counter.
I notice his veteran's cap
when my eyes flick up to
greet him. He unfolds his
money with long, careful
fingers. "You like the music?"
He asks me. Pachelbel's
Canon in D plays softly
on the radio. I do, and
I tell him so. "Pachelbel,"
He says, half to himself,
then adds, "Only thing I
don't like about him is
when you've heard the first
few measures, you've
heard it all."

“Look at that,” She yells to no one in
particular, “The temperature’s  gonna drop
right off. Freezing—like winter again—
and thunderstorms…” She scowls at the
television flashing the news, then turns and
scowls at her meal: pasta with sauce in a
little dish on the side, a turkey dinner she’d
sent back because the turkey wasn’t cut up.
With slow precision she nudges the pasta
next to the turkey and pours gravy over
both. She sits there long after she finishes,
thumping her foot—bound in a blue cast—
against the counter, calling out to passing servers,
to anyone who will listen.

You creatures of the quiet ponds
who swim unseen among the fronds
lift your flagella, join the song,
rejoice, for you are known.

You crickets, dragonflies, and bees
who dwell in grass and boughs of trees
raise now your buzzy symphony,
rejoice, for you are known.

You song sparrow and hermit thrush
who hide amid the forest brush
sing out and fill the evening hush,
rejoice, for you are known.

You people weary, sad, and small
who fill the street and shopping mall
take heart and praise him, one and all,
rejoice, for you are known.

The snow fell light and sifted
through last night's bitter cold
but look, the world has shifted
and winter lost his hold.

The soil is rich and warming
and every fallen flake
will nourish green things growing
as seeds begin to wake.