One With Nature

Benjamin Jenkins, poem, poems, poetry, writing

My eyes swallow

The approaching landscape

Pine needle, milkweed, Pine and Maple trees

Shagbark hickory, Acorns, ferns, Marigolds, and Wintergreen.

My blood is Autumn

There are Rhododendrons

When their leaves begin to die

They turn a loud, ripe yellow

The neighborhood and I

Would pick them as bananas

My breath is a breeze

Through painted leaves

Harvesting my imagination

Churning real world commodity

My bones are branches

Hiking boots eat it all up

Carrying me from the mouth of the trail-head

The blue sky smells of approaching winter

With a hint of Lagavulin

My mind is Ocean and Mountain

No matter how hard we try

It’s hard not to leave a footprint


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