leaves dance in spring-wind, the flowers sit and sway and calm the street. The still-point-petals line the garden; brick-walls gleam and fence-posts stand attentive to the silent day. The day hums in rest; the hearers sit in garden, music in their unsure ears, shy before unfolding yawn. Radiator-bars warm, the slow sun as yet contained in veil. This is the day, the thankful day. Birdsong twines with road-work buzz; dazzled life wanders in dancing patterns. Inattentive workers, pause: rejoice now and be glad.