Greening clover

Today is the anniversary of my birth; a day when I was innocent and my parents were not yet disappointed.

I put on old shoes and a rain suit, grab the umbrella from its place on the porch and walk in the park.

Beside the pond I recite the name of God and ask for humility to accept guidance from prayer I do not want.

Rain drums on roofs, fills street gutters to overflowing, soaks my feet and greens the clover, again.

Somewhere a four leaf clover grows; I leave it for someone else to find and hope it is a child still full of dreams.

5-18-23