For...

...a little goat in Texas, 

trees that I can lean against, 

flat stones to skip. 

For phones that ring, 

emails that are answered, 

"shout outs" at high school soccer games. 

For running into a friend,

hugging a friend, 

having a friend sit beside me. 

For glances across the room, 

bread and wine at the table, 

eyes meeting eyes.

For the baby that holds my nose, 

the brother that makes a magnet bracelet, 

the mother who keeps them safe. 

For colored pencils, 

page 13 in my new book, 

the smell of the sheets on my bed.

For the machine that takes the pictures, 

the man who read the images, 

the doctor who knows what it all means. 

For the heater now whirring, 

the socks on my feet, 

the leaves turning purple. 

For the things that have been here, 

the ones who have gone, 

that which is yet to come.

For the butter in the scrambled eggs, 

the chickens that roost and lay, 

and a woman far away who finds and cleans them

I give thanks.