If you gaze, focused,
breathing with restraint,
you may see a hilltop shift
to a more comfortable position.

You may catch shadows
bending to retrieve fruits
blown too early
from their arms.

The place you come back to,
a field with space enough
to float dreams,
will surprise you.

At dusk it crowds up with birches,
discussing weather.
Several streams reroute
overnight.

You plant your feet down
between whispering maples,
praying no sharp wind
will blow this over.