With my eyes closed,
My legs crossed,
And my hands on my knees

Sitting on a Mexican blanket
Folded and laid atop
A fallen log

I started to hear drops
Falling
On the leaves and the dirt

This
Broke the concentration
Of my meditation

As I worried
That it might
Start to pour

I forgot about it
And remembered
My breath

Uncrossed my legs,
Got a book out of my bag,
And stood up

I felt something fall
And bounce
Off the top of my head

And into
The crease
Of the open book

It was a twig
No longer
Than a quarter inch

It had not
Been rain
Falling

It was pieces
Of the trees
Cast down

July 20, 2021 at 09:31AM