Thursday Home From Work

He was surprised, when he looked back,
at the things that stood out.
He was on a bench in the very early spring,
the time of year that cummings called mud-
luscious.
A blonde was reading nearby, legs crossed, shoe dangling.
New mothers by tulips yellow, orange, white.
The lonely toll of the flagpole halyard’s hollow clang
while children squealed, delighted by dogs.
Sudden sun, shadowy cool.
On a bench with a sandwich.
Life.