Backyard, no two greens repeat,
flowers giving local light.
No good reason to go further,
nothing elsewhere better seen.
Psalms and koans take a number,
myths and scriptures cool their heels
before the facts of lavender,
roses, artichoke plants in bloom,
bougainvillea on its trellis.
Phoebes, linnets stealing cat food,
sometimes a hawk on weightless wings
sails through this lower bit of sky,
this one curve of all the earth.
How we vanish. All this left
newly polished by our absence
for whoever’s left to notice.
And it dulls again so soon.