What was on the wall that day.
Grateful for the man who plows the alley before dawn. Hardly anyone thanks him. I'm thanking him.
First daffodils up. The same patch every year. I don't know who planted them but I send thanks.
The way fog moves down a hillside in the morning.
My doctor sent me a handwritten note after my dad's funeral.
My mother-in-law calls me her son even though she has her own son.
A long stretch first thing in the morning.
An honest yawn.
My partner kept my mother's hand-knit afghan on our bed even after she died.
Pancakes with maple syrup pooled in the middle.
Spring break, 1993. A motel pool. My brother and I underwater making faces. We came up laughing every time.
The dog with the curly ears at the park.
My kid told me a secret today and asked me not to tell anyone. I won't.