A Walking Meditation

Stepping slowly and silently
scanning the scene.
Falling and fallen leaves,
some slick with wet from last night’s rain.
Browns. So many browns.
A 64 crayon box of browns.
Sepia, brass, raw sienna, copper.
Dried out tall grass and dead ferns,
burnt umber and tumbleweed.
Gray-brown boulders and tree trunks
speckled forest green,
occasional bursts of white
and electric-lime, lichen and moss.
So much brown. So many grays.
Specks of brightness.
And you.
Where did you come from?
You weren’t there a minute ago!
You weren’t there until I saw you.

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