Isn’t it Lucky
by Jane Lang

isn’t it lucky …
the day begins
the dark slowly fades
the light appears

isn’t it lucky …
I write these words
my quiet time, before
the parade of morning

isn’t it lucky …
though grass be parched
perennials bud
bloom and share secrets

the seduction of rain
might and will trick the air
while summer’s heat
slowly wanes

isn’t it lucky …
I have memories of the sea
those days now past
of which my heart sings

isn’t it lucky …


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