What We Ought to Admire

The very edge of a warped brick, for instance
The tick of a cooling kettle, or one heating
The very first leaves that drift down, a slow fall into still water

The way air is soft on a warm night, with no intent
The small animals that burrow into dense dry grass
The people who have stepped down, and are still

Stars that suddenly appear through the gaps between clouds
Graveyards that attract wanderers who want to sleep undisturbed
Water that reflects things that we should be looking at

Coins that bought things ages ago, the coins and the things now lost
Little bees that hover near you, as if contemplating your friendship
A long line of ants that leads to a dropped Popsicle

How we think of things that cannot be, and yet assemble them anyway