On a Walk

Walking through the yard I see mud clumps from the plow.
I see brown puddles and untrimmed hedges,
Trash from cars, wet rotted leaves, brown, dead grass,
broken branches fallen to the ground, mud on my car.

Using sight and smell I smell green sprouting things
and the smell of the lake, minutes away, coming to me in the wind.
I smell cows finally let loose from winter confinement and
a recently cut tree fallen from a winter storm.

Seeing, smelling, touching I feel the softness of the new grass,
the bark of a happy tree, smooth buds that are baby leaves.
I touch the mud and it feels like the gritty mud pies I used to love
I touch the stump and feel the sticky sap

Seeing, smelling, touching, tasting I open my mouth and taste the fresh air
coming from the lake released from its skin of ice, almost like fish and seaweed.
I pull a blade of grass from the sheath and bite the tender end
and taste sweetness and light.

Seeing, smelling, touching, tasting and best of all hearing
I hear the birds and their calls to find mates. All the birds I’ve been missing.
Orioles and Cardinals and Mourning Doves, Chickadees with their summer song
So different than their winter song.

What would I do without these senses?
Which one, if I had a choice, would I choose to lose?
Deciding to enjoy them while I have them
I decide to explore the field.