Morning drives
Typically, uneventful
Leave at a certain time
To arrive at a certain time
The same certain time every day-
Despite the routine
Most days my heart hopes
For the unexpected
And when it appears
It is always in the same spot
How does that still count as unexpected?
Grazing quietly
In the field
Looking up quizzically
As I drive by
Or hopping through the grass
Showing off fluffy white tails
Any number of soft brown deer
Passing on a surprised smile
An audible gasp
Pure unexpected joy
Another poem from a recent poetry circle. ❤️


