Sunday Afternoon

Your bare feet propped on window sill
look out and watch the swirling thrill--
the helicopter seeds in flight,
the gold coins spinning through the light.

They whirl like beetles, butterflies,
young trees cavorting from blue skies,
replying to frail winter flakes--
robust, happy, hard to break.

Now dance! See! Weary world employs
a superfluity of joys!