Every day now the abundant portulaca
Open and close their small blossoms in rhythm with the sun
Every day now the gawdy canna blossoms rise on sturdy stalks 
Reaching high above their graceful green leaves
To made red holes in the blue sky
Every day now slender white blossoms rise on fragile stalks
Above the hostas’ abundant leaves
Every day now the coleus needs no blossom
To entrance with its showy leaves

Every day now I feel a little more
The possibility of joy
Blossoming like our garden
In haphazard profusion
Above the manure rich soil
Of America