Grasshoppers Velcro my leg. I’m the pause on the way to their next swaying
perch in the sunbaked and spicy expanse of big bluestem and fleabane.

Brightness and heat, enough sun for one day. It’s the cool that I want, the soft
breath of crushed leaves’ slow return to the earth. At the ridge-top we startle,

deer and I, eyes lock in pause from our browsing the forest, then move onward.
Listen to chipmunk chitter-trill scolds, calling me thief who may steal from her

hickory nuts. It’s the truth in the slant of the leaf-light I’m looking for,
hands that are narrow can stretch out wide open to solitude’s presents—

space for my thoughts to find sounds of the words that can hold possibility,
oneness in being just another animal seeking some sustenance.