Bits and pieces

Above the roofline, more stars than sky.

A loon calls across the lake.

Cicadas constant in the woods.

I pick cobwebs off my sneaker.

I try to fit in small spaces.

The shadows of leaves on my tent.

They call those web caterpillars. They don't hurt the trees.

My brother blows on the fire. Ash falls as slowly as snow.

"Sometimes knowing it exists is enough," my dad says, of a blue crab shell I leave on the beach.