September 11, 2012
Today we did not win the lottery
and your plane arrived on time.
There’s a slip of purple in the eastern sky,
cinnamon to the west. Our rosemary needs clipping.
There’s a clack then a hum along the sidewalk—the boys
from down the street head home on their skateboards.
Each day has its ahs, and this is the best of them.
Paradise is relative.
─Kay B. Day; from the collection Notes from Florida
Photo/The US Report