The breeze,
as it passes through the trees,
is made audible by the yet fallen oak leaves.
One of these leaves detaches,
takes flight,
catches on the wind,
and then lands at my feet.
I sit here above the creek with turmeric tea steaming in my face.
My belly is full of veggies and I am sore in places I didn’t think possible from a hike.
I see three tumbleweeds nestled up on a fence nearby.
They seem so out of place,
like three irresponsibly discarded bottle caps.
I sigh a full and bountiful breath out.
Tonight,
I feel cradled between a rock and a warm, soft place.
The water whispers goodnight and the moon sings me to sleep.
Real Deep Shit 