Perhaps all the pleasures in life are small
In perspective they all get resized
The sound of a coffee cup Tom gave me
A Russian bell as a green handled spoon
Mixes in the milk, serving as the clapper
Two tones, a gentle alarm after I wake
How the cat rubs up for attention, gets it
And then plants himself just out of reach
The dollar paperbacks from the Salvation Army
The paper tanned by time, gives more smiles
Than the pristine $27.50 hardcover
A recommendation from an artist in an alley
Years ago gives me things to read even today
The way the wind pushes and pulls the house
When certain windows are open
Fresh air fills the corners and I forgive it
For cluttering the patio with debris
I can only watch baseball on Sportscenter
Crack, Crack, Whiff, Whiff, Crowd Shot, Crack
More like the hockey I wait for
That challenges my prescription
And gives me grace and contact
The way my love