Praise the rain as it stings your eyes, good morning, praise every puddle & each truck splashing you, wave to the tide going out as you reach the harbor, the off-season boats drifting, cheating on their moorings & the green-blue water curdling around them, praise the ticks in the wet grass, reverently keep them from your legs, praise your ankles for healing & your knees for not hurting today, yes, thank your mother for those weak ankles & your father for the troubled knees, thank your brother who used to flick the ticks in the grass at you, who praised the wind as it blew you back downhill, bless the boat your father was always going to get next year & the faith you always hoped to feel, bless all you never did & probably won’t do, good morning, thank the early shadows for letting you sail on that boat that doesn’t exist, thank all that never was, praise all that disappears.