It’s not too late
to feel blessed,
though eyes be turned toward sleep,
though goals be given up on,
though consciousness
has wandered off
into various fields
where grasses
are going to seed
and small flowers
hold court with many
peculiar bugs

It’s not too late to be blessed —
look — you’re there already
in the sweet breath of summer night,
in the dream welcoming call
of warm blankets and chilly wind.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 7, 2017