● The path on which I released a red admiral butterfly caught in the grass. Tattered wings beating against the dirt path, it flew, with grass hanging, fluttering toward the trees.
● Fallen tree trunks surrounded with empty beer cans
● One for sorrow
● Yesterdays litter becoming a marker, a neatly tied black plastic bag of dog shit
● Shit made beautiful with the iridescent backs of bluebottles coveting it
● Six for gold
● Leaf shimmer and whisper
● Breath rhythm
