I find myself counting

I find myself counting

never aloud

and what, I don't know

(oh, but I do)

in the pattern I weave as I

round bale hay, back and forth

no, side to side

in seach of perfection

pulling windrow to shape

bird nest empty, mowed

do not hide now

in my path fledgling, I am not counting birds.

~~ Phil Specht