Taking out the goats

I stopped walking.

To listen

to the sounds

all around

of birds

and the wind

through the trees.

If you sniff

you can smell

the few

remaining blossoms

on the Hawthorn.

Scattered on the ground

are violets,

daisies,

clovers and more.

Walking barefoot,

the stones

of the road

are cool

and slightly damp

from morning dew

As I brush past

the long grass

my jeans

become wet

with heavy drops

off the tall blades.

A feeling of well-being

has settled on my mind

though I know

of the many dilemmas

waiting

back at the house.

Nothing that can't

be put aside for

a few moments peace

in the mornings

when

taking out the goats.