The least of life is much to love.

Consider a withered tree

and how we hope to see it bud again,

and those who agree

that lichen on stone is beautiful.

To say nothing of pine.

To say nothing of ivy's profusion.

And then the lawn,

and then the crows,

and the wide savannah and its game and predators,

and the oblate spheroid of incalculable wealth.

We are the least of life, but there is much to love.

April 9 2023