Encore

I see it as I lug buckets of fat tomatoes up the front steps,
a sphinx
beating furiously its wings,
reaching long for life-sustaining sap.

Below, a fat toad hobbles beneath the shrubs.
I turn to call my son, crouched on the lawn,
eyes on some unsuspecting grasshopper
and catch the azure sky
cradling corn kissed golden by crisp mornings,
all these millions of stalks standing and swaying and rustling together,
pause there on the steps,
reach hard for life-sustaining Grace,


join in
with all this


applauding.