Clearing the messy yard,
I pause long enough to watch
the procession of blue clouds
etched on a smokey sky,
gnarled like the curved weed on my path.
The sun plays its pick-up- stones game
rendering me to spring clean
the debris mounting on the garden.
Still, I manage to smile
as I thank heaven
for reminding me to tidy the weeds
including the thickness in my heart.