I looked down
grains stretched out,
kernels really,
at intervals they lie.
My basket was lined
with a red checked napkin,
it had been pressed,
folded
until now.
Bending down I lifted a grain
looking at it,
examining,
why I don't know.
I did though.
Dropping the kernel into the basket
I watched as it would slide
into the fold,
hiding but not really.
This path seemed to meander
I proceeded to collect the grains,
one by one,
some would think it arduous.
I guess I was resolved to the task at hand,
gathering kernels as I walked.
Occasionally I would stop
placing my hands into the basket
delving into the grains,
feeling their substance through my fingers.
Thinking when I was done
they would be washed and prepared,
but for now
I continued to gather.