In the Garden


Morning sunshine backlights the ferns

giving them a glowing radiance.

Mockingbirds swoop and hop over the

garden from wire to tree in a spring mating dance,

oblivious to the full feeder where other birds feast.

A slight breeze rustles the bamboo

like slippered feet crossing the floor and the wind-chime

offers a solitary ding from time to time.

I knew this morning was perfect when

the dogs awoke me with kisses and eagerly bound 

down the stairs, tails waving like flags.


NaPoMo prompt courtesy of This is not a Literary Journal

“Go outside, sit and observe. Make a list. Write a poem. Have fun.”

I did. 

One thought on “In the Garden

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