April 7th

At a certain angle, one can see the hours
stretching in an attempt at eternity.
The breeze prods, so does the sunshine.
The sound of water always never too far.
So, too, the sounds of conversations
between strangers attempting kindness.
Only the dogs are not disturbed.
And perhaps, too, the little children 
sitting on toy carts, the wheels rolling.
They are as aware of eternity, 
lounging contentedly at the front yard, 
as the weeds themselves who, seeing 
the gardener, keeps on growing anyway.