Look at the underbelly of living things. 
    Notice how the belly bag hangs
    in spring, the fur may be matted with damp, winter leaves
    during autumn, the skin may be chafed from ice or wind
    around summer, the whole thing may be crusted and overly dry
    still, the animal will wander unconcerned, braving tall grass,
    looking for small tastes of nothing, really 

My thoughts rest on the underbelly of living things
    when I am walking…
    when I am walking toward uncertainty or renewal
    when I am walking toward opportunity or discard
    when I am walking toward a planting or harvest

I am thankful that I do not crawl
or live in a space close to the ground.
How marvelous it is to brush these fingers across my underbelly
when the walk has left me dirty.