Round and Round

The day is round. Last night, shadows waited at the back door to the grass, moving, fluttering. The young trees. It was just like her and I thought I saw her sitting there like she always did. It was her. Why do I still refuse to let her in? Would she mess up my life? Is this what is so frightening? Cows breathing in the field, sniffing like wolves. It thought they were deer. The old folks were so weary and freaked last week. This one's going better than expected. Calculate it. What else could happen in ninety degree heat? The garden holds itself, only shares its crackling.