When They Come Through

By Jim Farfaglia

In early mornings, when I’m just starting the big wheel of my day,

if I happen to notice them wandering my yard, I always stop.

 

For what can be more important

than watching them gingerly step into life?

 

As if each hoof that touches earth

is in search of beauty,

 

as if every sound is meant to be heard,

and every greenery, to be savored.

 

How could I miss this chance to remember?

How can I just jump into my day

 

and let that truth pass on by?

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