There you go again,
flagging me down,
forcing me to slow my roll

because, as usual, I am going too fast,
missing something placed in my path,
trying to get my attention.

I do not know why I was born with
two speeds — go and sleep — but,
and you know this well,

I have over these almost 67 years
managed to reduce my speed a wee bit,
though some might disagree.

Nowadays, on every walk, I literally
stop, bend and sniff all the roses I can,
especially the white and yellow ones,

which a friend recently told me
are the most fragrant. These days,
with every pause,

I find myself giving thanks
for every blooming thing,
for all the beauty I cannot yet see.