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Vineyard Poets

Not On My List

I will not make a list of these things.

They are more important
than a loaf of bread
or calling the plumber
and the library book due yesterday.


I will simply walk on the beach
when the sound of surf
won't let me turn away
and write
when the gift of a phrase
is newborn and just opening its eyes
and sit on the porch
because the chair is empty
and the yellow finches are feeding
and kiss your cheek
because it is there
and turned upward, unsuspecting.


And I will eat that peach
because it ripeness
will not wait for me
to do my chores.


July 31, 2001