I grew up on grass,
not meadows
and parks,
not forests.
My ocean had a lifeguard
and a raft.
I later learned
that people have love affairs
with nature
and I decided I was ready to let nature
have her way
with me too.
I came on strong;
sniffing her sap
and fondling her rocks.
Waiting impatiently
for my breath
to catch fire,
for my soul
to shake.
But it was as though I was covered in oil,
city all over me,
and she was rain that beaded on my skin
and ran off my face like tears.
My mistake
wasn’t in pursuing her;
it was in not pursuing
myself.
I am nature
and until I can hear the roar
of the wind
in my own breath,
I am just a gangly girl trying to catch
a butterfly
in my net.