empty us of fear
o Lord, and fill us
I walk in the afternoon, and it is already hot enough to tell the difference that shade makes when passing under a tree. But a good breeze hits me often enough.
The grass is bright and just high enough that it would alert homeowners and gardeners, but since it is a field, no one will do anything for several more days. It is just long enough to make me nervous, but I remind myself I have real problems to think about, and so I sometimes don't imagine getting between a mouse and a snake circling life.
I pass scattered debris from who knows where, and wonder what brought it there. I see mounds I know are doors for some kind of critters, but don't know what, and ask myself what I need to know about them. Then I realize I've lost the trail of conversation I am not sure I've started.
an empty plastic bag
stuck in the stiff grass
distracts contracts the mind