I walk on the grass with bare feet after watching the news.
Searching for some way to remember what’s real.
What do I see? Hear? Feel? Smell?
How can I focus on what’s in front of me
when lives are ending across the world
as quickly as I brush my toes across the ground.
All I see are those images of broken bodies and terrified children,
all I hear are their cries,
feel their anguish, and smell?
Smoldering. Gray dust and heat.
Nothing at all like these lush hills
holding me where it’s easy to pretend
everything is okay.

I walk on the grass with bare feet after watching the news.
Searching for connection to this land, this place I call home.
So much like any other place across America, the world,
but also not at all.
I get dirt under my toenails as I dig them into the earth,
this place holding us all, and I can’t understand
why it seems so hard for everyone to be nice to each other.
Because here we are.
Together on this planet,
breathing, drinking, eating, connected,
like it or not.

I walk on the grass with bare feet after watching the news.
Examining leaves and ants and bees and so much
life my eyes aren’t capable of seeing,
so much it’s hard to fathom.

I walk on the grass with bare feet after watching the news.
And all I can do is breathe.