The migraine has eased up enough
that she can get vertical again,
It’s bending over that really sends it surging
so she avoids that,
sits down ever so slowly
in the lounge chair on the patio.
An evening this lovely
could nearly draw the dead from their graves:
sunset beginning to fade from the sky,
enough wind to chase away flies and mosquitoes
and just enough heat to make the breeze
seem like a really fine thing.
We watch the leaves of the locust dip and dance,
watch the slender crescent of a new moon
brighten in the western sky,
admire the soft lush green of new grass.
We pass another hour
talking about the kids,
a coming trip.
Darkness slips in around us
and we welcome the night and its quiet,
the coming rest and rising to another day,
ready to see and be what the Lord has made.