Other worlds underfoot
within our own
become delightful details
in a forest for greenhorns
to explore new territory,
to learn fresh songs,
dance steps and innovative
ways of reckoning
that becomes instinct
beneath the surface
of these grasses grazed.
I am the intruder opening
an alfalfa valve, turning
water loose to run
across a thirsty pasture,
as one of its wet souls
leaps and startles me—
then freezes and stays.
drycrikjournal 