Good days happen

Good days happen
Without warning, after bad days, in spite of too much sun or rain
Laughter bursts out of dark corners and explodes whole rooms
Clearing cobwebs with astonishing speed
Dread wearies of itself, and falls exhausted to the floor,
Overcome by its own mutterings, melodramatic in its flung pose
Good news sneaks in over the transom, under the shutters, between the cracks
Surprising in unexpected places, unhoped-for ways
Good days happen

Good days do not wait for big things
For fine news
For miracles
Good days are like a seeded lawn — much nothing
Followed by a bit of something
And like the growing grass, good days don’t change the world
But they smell fine when you mow them, and you can lie on a good day
And watch the clouds float overhead

Good days smell like after the rain,
Pie in the oven,
New-mown hay,
Sweet feed for horses,
Autumn leaves.

Good days grace us with sharp cold air
— Thinking air —
And snowfield silence
And apple-blossom beauty
And anchor us to life, and tether us tight to good dark ground
When we’re in danger of falling off
And so we can go on.

For Zette, Andi, and June, orchestrators of much of my good day, with thanks for the surprise.

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