On the first day of summer we sat on the veranda,
Watching the robbin on her nest and sipping a beer.
And after deconstructing the day’s most boring meetings,
And reliving the thunderstorms, and lamenting things that didn’t go as planned,
What else was there to do but give ourselves completely
To unbridled celebration of a perfect June evening
In the company of flowers on the world’s most exquisite veranda?
No comments:
Post a Comment