The "Yeah, who - who - who" of the morning dove
combines with the cicadas' rattling percussion rising, 
then falling, while relentless roaring tractors pull grass shears
over the golf course. Murphy, the pit bulldog
and I am in the rapt audience perched on our
morning porch watch.

I'm reading the Apostle Paul. God's love includes
all kinds of people with one caveat: We must trust
God who gave his son for us. (read Romans 3)

The "Yeah, who - who - who" sounds again just
as I read the last few words. Murphy fixes me
with her eyes while pursing her lips. Time to eat.