(Pere Marquette State Park) I pause, with gratefulness survey once more the room, the rustic furniture, my river view out past the chartreuse sweetgum leaves:
soft, fragile, new.
The checkout time is minutes yet away. The draperies with their woodland print design for these few minutes more
I breathe a blithe doxology for birds that sang the world awake, and me; for gibbous moon view this kind room
has let me see.
I find the key and flick it, leave the door well latched, go down wide stairs with gladness