Silent
Still
Dark

The faraway, rhythmic jiggle of a dog’s collar
The arrival of a soft breeze and the pull of its departure
The deep pink roses standing out like secret beacons in the corners

Stop and smell
Nose damp
Free rose water
Grin

You could skip if you wanted to, and sometimes you do
You could sprint like a child
The exhilaration of running on carpet indoors
No elements to stop you
And you’re outside, even better

Dirt
Grass
Tiny wildflowers
A stick
No moss

Put it in a jar and label it
Dickinson Square Park
Then