Looking at the garden,
Waiting for another gift.
And here it comes,
Floating down the path,
A butterfly lighting on a flower.
Then a bird selects a feeder
And settles in to eat,
Glancing at me for assurance.
Bees hum around the sedums,
A lizard dances on a branch,
Clouds drift above the heat.
The world is rich with gifts
All beautifully wrapped
In fur and feathers, air and sunshine.
©2018 John I. Blair, 6/26/2018
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