I’ve come to a stop spot, in early October, with the sound of cricket song, through bluestem seedheads waving in a breeze, through sunlight shining in the colors of the grasses and leaves of shrubs, through aspenglow, to the last blooms of the season, to asters, to a moment, to a stop, to a feeling of being alive, to a gentility, serenity, a place to sit, to look, to listen, to feel hidden, to an awareness I am breathing, to this one place, I am here