This Day

Collecting small and passing things,
And how my joy just seems to sing.
The sound of laughter behind a door,
A song I never heard before—this day feels long and fine,
And it feels like it's all mine.
Some people count the miles they've crossed or tally what they've won; I count the dogs outside cafés asleep beneath the sun.
I count the stories left untold, the faces passing through,
The way a perfect moment comes and leaves before it's through.
I don't care where the stay goes; I like the way it moves and flows,