This evening in spring
we checked the flower beds
for moisture and green shoots.
We trimmed and dug up
the old raspberry patch
and read bedtime stories.
Taking the dog out
one last time, we pointed
out the first of the night’s
stars, speculating
when the flower full moon
would rise. I tried to write
all these events in
a way that would make them
seem ordinary. Alas,
I could not.
Dimming sky
Waiting for
The moon rise