There is apple pie in the sunshine, with apples grown on our own tree
And there is the radiant face of a child buried in corn.
There are hedgehogs made from old books
And regular old books, some of them handmade
And I know the world is good
And good for me.
There are tiny metal street signs posted on ancient doorways
And coffee shops down an alley.
And copycat children, playing at being
As grown up as each other.
There are joys like pretty dresses and poetry recitals,
A brand-new junior firefighter
And our first college tour.
There is my cat, who brings us provender in the form of half mice on the doormat, so thoughtful,
And in between pretends to be dead
Maybe that is how he lures the mice!
There is pain and repentance and a side of fear, but also new recipes
And pavlova made with a friend
And nieces and nephews gathered around hot chocolate
Which turns out to be not that good, and too hot.
There are colors
And fields, and golden days
And sand between the toes
And a Scrabble partner who beat me hollow, the stinker.
There are anguished nights but also peaceful mornings
And golden-haired children and open skies
And I know I am alive and living and going on living
And it’s going to be alright.
Where are you taking your joy these days?