Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Saturday Morning

Intricate, miniature leaves
cupping water drops...
The basil on the windowsill
sprouted overnight.
I soar on surprise.
Who'd have thought
seeds, bought only a week ago,
would be so eager to live
in such a narrow place!
this moment is all there is,
a scent of life, a flash of light,
to brand in memory,
and I clasp my oneness
with these tiny leaves,
even before I drink my tea,
this Saturday morning.