News at Eleven: This walk is meditative; it works,

I struggled to convince myself, if I remember to focus on my breath. The interruptions shouldn't matter as much as my focus. I tried to see clearly.

Fire-orange and red leaves were hanging from gray flaking branches, and the dark brown leaves on the ground crushed beneath my boots.

Signpost number three: The nature of yesterday/Is not nature./What has been, is nothing.

What should have been a dreamy line of poetry felt insensitive, even mean. Thinking of Grandpa, I took it personally.

from The Millions: A Wanderer in Poem Forest

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