My Backyard

When I come to Boise
I walk in my backyard.

I take off my socks, shoes and shirt.
Like a weirdo.

I pace for about two hours every day.
The grass gets all matted,
like when your dog runs back and forth
along the fence.

I can do all the mosts the best in my backyard.
I touch the most,
I breathe the most,
I smell the most,
I think the most,
I listen the most,
I feel the most.
I miss the most.