Sunday, February 2, 2014

Nature Poem

Want to be the kind of guy
Who takes his inspiration
From falling leaves
Who takes long walks
And dogs and squirrels approach
St. Francis--birds land on finger
Creeks ripple gently
Through a contented soul
But I am twitchy--
Dogs keep their distance
Squirrels make me paranoid
The creek bed in my soul
Is full of anxious rocks
Eager to watch me slip
To laugh at my muddy pants.

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