With a rock for a seat
I sit with lichens and
crumbs from a chipmunk’s meal,
between short spiny trees,
scraped by brush and bushes
growing low and sturdy
on the edge of the earth,
facing islands in a valley,
the fresh breeze on my cheeks
just passed through the clouds.
Up with wild blueberries
the bird’s eye view
and sudden quiet
peace is all we know.