Thanksgiving: It's A Miracle Poem by Frank Avon

I know a miracle when I see it:
the tiny paws of our rat terrier,
the Golden Gate bridge,
the Adirondack mountains,
photographs by Ansel Adams,

a jigger of Jack Daniels,
daisies growing in a clump,
these keys with which I write,
Richland Creek at flood stage,
one-humped and two-humped camels,

sourdough bread,
Black Angus cattle,
postage stamps,
morning glories,
John Deere tractors,

the hand of man,
the hand of God,
everything handmade
or begotten
of the body.

I know miracles
when I see them,
here and there,
everywhere.
And I am thankful.