A Quiet Morning
It’s a
relatively quiet morning
as I sit
on my porch
watching
the grass growing
and tiger
lilies glowing in the sunshine.
A dove
coos its four-part song,
bum ba
ba bum.
If it
was a poet, it would know
that it
was trochee plus iamb.
A trochaic-chirping
sparrow by the fence
waits for
me to fill the birdfeeder.
A car
crunches on gravel nearby,
reminding
me to get ready for church.
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