My Morning Walk

I step onto the trail.
blackberry honeysuckle
breeze is absorbed,
not just through my mouth and nose,
but through all my pores
on my forehead, the inside of my elbows,
everywhere.
She leaves, I don’t notice
until she returns
brushing the back of my neck.
The sun is not so aggressive today.
The sun and breeze
are like an aria with harmony so close
it’s hard to tease them apart.
The metronome is the soft clack
of my dogs claws.
I only slow sheepishly
for a frog shaped rock.

Kristie Inman
June, 2008