One for sorrow? But the magpie in the backyard doesn’t look sorrowful, not even a little bit. Yesterday, while we were away, they came and cut the grass that was overgrown and lopped the heads off the daisies and the sky is grey again; a grey I’m not sure I’ll ever get entirely used to, but this crow’s chatter is all home, home, home. 

may me heart always be open
e.e. cummings

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile