Little Things

As I strolled along the beaten path,

I thought of how a dinner roll

Might be the nasty thing to do the trick,

Or maybe some fried, breaded okra.

Do you see the harmony

In the little things in the cemetery?

Jump into my arms, just as the wave

Crashes upon the shore.

The tide is coming in, my dear,

So count your blessings for this year.