I roll onto my side,the grass damp and prickly on my bare legs.A speckled monarch flits across a big-leaf hydrangea sky.The breeze tousles the rose bushes, sighs,then rests.

Nature’s beauty draws me in, but my owndrowsiness, like the reel of a fishing rod,pulls me back.

I let the blades pierce my neck, my armsopenly welcoming the chilling sensationwhile a tree teases me with its shade, coveringme, then dancing off.

Peace envelops me like the husk of a summertomatillo, like the soft petalof a sleepy tulip.