CITY ISLAND LINES
As I listened to the cries
Of scolding cackling crows, I wondered what cunning lies Their wicked chatter told. Shuffling my feet through sheaves of leaves, While a blue racoon howled at the moon, I was regaled by snails and their tales Of a hungry loon who’d swallowed a spoon. On I strode, ‘til I reached the sand, Where, like nuns escaped from cloisters. Frolicking madly hand-in-hand, Danced a chorus of boisterous oysters. Grateful for this connection to Mother Nature’s perfection, I realised, Gratitude is not a platitude but an attitude, A daily exercise. 22 Oct 2019
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