We leave the sidewalk
for a gravel trail,
 
our footsteps slowing
into a benevolent song,
 
find our way to a creek,
where barely a dribble flows.
 
We disconnect from
the daffodil's cheer
 
for the early spring woods
of a chilly day.
 
We find May apples,
trout lilies, and trilliums
 
among fallow trees.
By ignoring the obvious
 
we find the glorious
in an ordinary neighborhood.


© by Margaret Coombs.
Used with the author's permission.