A Saturday morning in May, tra-la

A Saturday morning in May

No lessons, and birds shouting ”Spring” tra-la

The garden and trees tendering, tra-la

The sounds of the town far away.

The sun has pulled off

Earth’s thick blanket of sloth

The beasts in the loam

Build a sweet-smelling home

How fine to be sensing, 

How fine to be living,

On a Saturday morning in May.

-John F. Kennedy Library