Best thing
What was the best part about your day?
my oldest daughter asked me tonight.
Sunlight filling our house after days and days of rain
the rain still falling from the sky in dust-mote-sized drops
as if it can’t bear to stop raining and can’t bear to rain more.
A deep, wide rainbow, the purple as urgent as the red
stretching down from one side of the clouds and seeming to end
on the road that leads to our new home.
The marble that rolled away under the car
burying itself in a pile of leaves
before it could roll out the other side. The little mystery.
The bird my youngest daughter made in art:
twisted wires for the beak and wings and one leg
the body filled in with a brown paper towel and masking tape.
The beauty in waste, knotted to make something new.