Sometimes I feel horrid,
like a lecherous man
who takes what he wants
and then leaves—
I venture into Woods,
inhale her orchid scent,
bathe in her turquoise stream,
and dance,
holding her long leafy tresses in the palms of my hand.
How I love you! I sing,
grateful for all of her gifts.
My poems sprouting like butterflies
in her expanse of flowers—
then I leave.