I wander in the field
tall weeds catching on my clothes
you can’t walk here
without taking some of it home
hitch hikers, stickers and burrs,
bits of pollen, a dead leaf
each needing something
even if it is just
to walk with someone for awhile
and the sun is warm
as my fingers brush the plants in passing
bits of husk and seed float away
on the fall breeze
I wonder what will take root
what will feed and what will become
pieces of nesting
to cradle next years infant birds
for the moment, I just breathe
that is the gift.