Three Days: A Poem in Three Parts, Part One


Three Days

Day One

Sneaking out of the house,
before little eyes see me.
I walk up the mountain,
which I have come to realize
is really a hill,
and along the way I counted
128 caterpillars.
Each one, clinging quietly
to a blade of grass,
appearing very much like a cattail
but green, and speckled, and shiny.

One hundred and twenty eight
for my two miles of walking
a straight-ish line.
My view, a few feet wide.
for a moment,
all the other caterpillars in the valley
unseen by my eyes.
Seen, only barely,
as hot air balloons
by the busy ants.
Or as finger snacks
By the hawks.
I did not stop for one caterpillar,
Only taking notes and numbers
With my eyes.
Trying, not that hard,
not to step on them.