Pork Chop

I went outside
and lay on my back
on the hot patio
in the sun.
I lifted my arm over my eyes.
I felt everything around
and in me,
the wind, the birds,
the sky, the sun,
the anxiety, the woe,
the joy, the peace,
my blood one with the sun.
It was only when
I heard the sizzle
of the pork chop
in the cast iron skillet
over the songs of sparrow
and crow and jay
that I returned indoors.