SPRAYS

(A sonnet while watching the sprinkler)

The garden sprinkler throws the spray across

the flowers with a softness that I love

to see. The spray sets down a silky gloss

among the blooms, a misty wetness from above

them as they sit in sunshine. Then I think

of sprays of words across a page in books

I love. The words like showers splash and sink

into my life, and thoughts start up like brooks

in freshened woods. Then the feel of sprays

of kindness comes to mind – the friendly aid

of clerks, the warmth of passers-by, the praise

received from strangers, just the fresh cascade

of love that’s all around. I feel its spray

of care, a shower on my life all day.