2011-03-31T23:24:47-07:00March 31st, 2011|Nature|

The forest

The forest is reckless
with its juices,
so wet the rain rises,
seeping upward
from the swampy earth.

A carpet of insects cusses,
darting and burrowing
beneath our footsteps.

An eagle loops the sky
tracing letters with her wings
writing her own poem.

Everything is dripping green
growing like it is a race,
the moss wins
wrapping the trees in hair:
a sea of old bearded gentlemen
standing around
ruing how fast
things change.

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