by E.M. Killaley
See: the sun, the clouds, the birds, the horizon; feel: the wind on your face, the cold on your skin, the grass between your toes; hear: the birds, the wind; taste: coffee; but you are one short, and you start again.
The coffee; the chimney smoke, the damp wool coat; the cold, the wind, the sun; the grasses, clouds like mountains, the field — the cliff?
Start again. Count them each, the things you see, feel, hear, smell, taste the words, count them once more. Cast up the lists in your mind, make them whole, know what it is before you and around you, and not what your past is telling you to see.
Art by Erik Solem