Inexhaustible

Will I ever run out

of tiny poems to write
from my redwood porch?

There are only so many
describable items
in my backyard—

plus the birds that arrive
and depart in a single
wing stroke;

some kind of squawking again—
squirrels in the basswood tree?
sounds like a wheezy duck!—

Jade planters.
Aluminum tray of desert rocks.
The kilowatt-hours clock.

Nothing the same as it was
yesterday, or even seconds ago.
Inexhaustible life!